We Were Hoping for More Porky's than Shoot to Kill
by Laury the Latrator
Summary: When O'Hara bursts in on a burglary gone wrong, she becomes the key witness in a federal case. The FBI descend and whisk Juliet, Shawn, and Gus to a remote beachfront cabin. But is it really safe in the 'safe house? Better summary on
1. Deadly Deli Delivery

**We Were Hoping for More **_**Porky's**_** than **_**Shoot to Kill**_**. Sorry!**

The last valiant streetlamp went out with a flicker. There was only the weak neon glow from the shops lining the street to aid the lone figure now advancing in the dark. No one would be out at this hour if they could help it. It wasn't until the traveller entered a brightly lit deli shop that she was visible.

Detective Juliet O'Hara looked around the empty sandwich store with her keen eye. The florescent lighting cast a bleached pallor over everything. The black rimmed wall clock ticked a lovely 1:32. The various impulse items lined along the shelves were the only suspicious things in the room.

"Howdy, ma'am, and what can I do for my friends in blue?" Howie welcomed in his low Texan drawl. Juliet smiled kindly at the store manager in return as she stepped over to the counter. So many cops frequented the deli Howie had become a fixture in their lives in his short 4 months. By now he pretty much single handedly fed the entire department.

"Late night," Juliet answered, "Double Homicide, the whole station's working round the clock. They all sent me out with their dinner/breakfast orders." She concluded with a small sigh. The man grinned, revealing his yellowed nicotine-stained teeth.

"Murder's a shame, but definitely good for business." He said with a short throaty laugh. "What d'ya need?" She took a deep breath before rattling off the massive list.

"Four chicken noodle soups, seven ham subs, four veggie wraps, two clam chowders, five hamburgers, and twelve Red Bulls." Juliet gave him an apologetic shrug. Howie nodded and moved to his preparation table. He wrung his hands a bit, Juliet noted absently, and started on the subs. He was silent through it all, but then Juliet didn't mind much.

The young Detective wandered from the counter to gaze aimlessly out the window. The dreary scene did nothing to lift her spirits. A decomposing John and Jane Doe were found inside a fridge near a dumpster with several gunshots each. Naturally the station was furiously trying to find their killer or killers. The case was so cold, and because they were halfway frozen it was impossible to find a time of death. They knew nothing about the couple and were stuck chasing dead ends.

She laid her forehead on the window and let out a puff of air that clouded the glass. Nights like this were the worst. Juliet watched the occasional pedestrian as they rushed to whatever drew them out of bed. Noise was drifting from a bar across the street. She let her eyes shift over the shops opposite her...

Wait! Juliet stood up straighter. The shades were drawn over the windows of the antiques' store, but there was a sliver underneath them where she could look inside. There was something moving in the dark.

"Someone's in the antiques' store across the street." Juliet alerted Howie. He dismissed it without looking up.

"Marco probably just forgot something. I'm sure it's nothing."

"Hopefully you're right, but I'm going to check it out," She replied as she stepped carefully to the door. Jules drew her handgun slowly, one hand on the door handle. "One, two," She murmured to herself. "THREE!"

Detective O'Hara pulled the door open and sprinted across the deserted street as fast as she could in heels. When she was almost there, Juliet twisted so her shoulder took the brunt of the impact. The force was so great, the locked door split open easily. Juliet grit her teeth against the pain pulsing in her arm and raised her pistol higher. Her trained eyes swept over the dead man on the floor to settle on the man with a gun and utter shock on his face. He snapped out of it at the next second and ran down to the back of the store.

"SBPD, FREEZE!" Juliet shouted, and she followed him. The man opened a door and rushed out into the alley behind the building. Jules joined him just in time to watch him shut the door of a waiting van. "STOP OR I'LL SHOOT!" She yelled. When the van started moving, Juliet reluctantly fired her weapon. The bullets that zoomed through the back did nothing to stop it speeding away, leaving one heavy-hearted junior detective behind.

~*~

Shawn and Gus descended on the scene at 2:12 to find it practically buzzing with officers. Gus was mad at him. Very very mad. May I reiterate the 2:12. AM. Wait... 2:13 AM.

Anyway, Shawn was worried. When Chief Vick called to tell him Juliet had busted in on an armed robber, he'd quickly demanded the address and jumped out of bed. Abigail had mumbled sleepily where he was going, and Shawn'd told her there was a crime scene he had to go to right away.

Well it was technically true. He was at a crime scene. But that wasn't what made his stomach clench in anxiety. That wasn't what made his eyes dart furiously over every figure. That wasn't what made his heartbeat stutter when he found her.

Juliet sat on a folding chair next to a sketch artist. Shawn grinned in relief that she was OK. Completely ignoring Gus, he ducked the crime tape and rushed to her side.

"Longer, and more greasy." Juliet was instructing the man working on the sketch as Shawn approached.

"How am I supposed to draw 'greasier'." The artist grumbled.

"Easy, just rub a french fry on it, they work wonders." Shawn informed them cockily. A groan from behind meant Gus had caught up. Juliet looked up and gave the pair a small smile. Shawn felt even more euphoric now if that was possible.

"His stubble was darker too," She continued. The artist colored it in as Shawn looked over his shoulder. The man looked around 30, with small squinty eyes and thick eyebrows. His hair hung limply to his chin which was just short of a beard. His nose looked squished, as if he'd been punched more than once. All in all, he looked like hell.

Carlton Lassiter, Head Detective of the SBPD, strode over to the group. "You finished yet?" Lassie barked (Shawn loved using that phrase, and it was so often true).

"Yes Carlton." Juliet responded in a monotone. Shawn noticed the tension between them, but he didn't really need his super-cop powers for that. Lassiter was positively glowering at her.

"And the van?" He asked in his dangerous 'you know you're in trouble when I sound nice' voice.

"Dark, could have been black or blue, no windows on the two rear doors, and I didn't get the plate." The last part sounded as if she was ashamed or guilty, Shawn noted in concern.

"So it was dark..." Lassiter repeated scathingly. "We've got no plates and no make or model, what the hell kind of detective are you O'Hara! A murderer is on the loose and all we have to go on is 'it was DARK'!" His shouting had attracted the attention of several by standers who were all cautiously pretending to be small. Juliet was taking it all silently, the only signs of weakness the way she bit her bottom lip and the gulps of air she was discreetly taking.

"Now, now," Shawn said, stepping a little closer to her, "I'm sure this is nothing we can't sort out over tea and muffins. Pineapple nut for me please," He said with his hand in the air. "Lassie, I'm thinking maybe something in a bran?" As expected, the Head Detective walked away, muttering venomously about where he'd love to stuff _his_ pineapple nut muffin. Satisfied, Shawn directed his attention to Juliet once more. She was quietly recollecting herself; the reprimanding must have compounded the self-deprecation she was feeling.

"Thank you, Shawn." She said tightly. Shawn crouched down to her level to look her in eye.

"How are you?" He asked quietly. Juliet smiled, still taking deep calming breaths.

"I'm fine really, just a little worn out." She replied. Shawn's perfect eyes ran over her features for confirmation. After a minute, he started speaking again.

"What happened Jules? Chief Vick said it was armed robbery, Lassie said it's murder, what do you say?" Quickly switching from victim to detective, Juliet filled him in.

"So he had a gun but he ran, he didn't shoot?" Shawn asked afterwards. She nodded.

"I think he was so shocked by my entrance he completely forgot he had a weapon. That or he didn't like the idea of a firefight with a cop, the escape worked of course, there's no guarantee in a shootout."

"Your entrance?" Shawn asked. He must've missed that detail once he was overwhelmed with anxiety for Jules from hearing about the assailant.

"Yes. I assumed the door would be locked, so I ran from the deli to the door. My shoulder rammed into it, and the door popped open." Jules told them, a note of pride shinning in her recounting. Shawn however felt very differently about this information. He took her jacket and pulled it off over her arm. Once it was hanging only from one side, Shawn took her hand in his and pushed her long sleeve up all the way to her shoulder. There was a faint reddish-purple bruise running all along one side of her arm. Shawn inspected it, twisting her arm a little this way and that, until a firm throat clearing broke his concentration.

He looked up at Gus in question. With everything Shawn had dragged his friend through, he'd learned to recognize the sound of his fake cough. Gus was darting his eyes back and forth between Shawn and where his hand still held Juliet's. Shawn looked down in surprise, having totally forgotten about it. It had felt natural to hold her hand, so natural Shawn had forgotten there were platonic boundaries never to be crossed. He looked up at Jules, and at the sight of her slight blush Shawn immediately dropped her arm.

Actually clearing his throat, Shawn said lamely "You should have that looked at." Jules nodded quickly.

"Yeah, yeah, I will..." There was a very awkward silence. Finally Shawn broke the tension.

"So where's this dead body I've been promised?" It was probably the worst way to move on from an intimate moment, but it got the job done.


	2. Guile Glass Game

**We Were Hoping for More **_**Porky's**_** than **_**Shoot to Kill**_**. Sorry!**

"This is Marcos Bellatrize." Juliet gestured to the ground needlessly. Dead people tend to attract the eye. Gus made a choking sound at the sight of the no-longer-aging old man face down in something brown and sticky. "As you can see, he was shot in the back. Lying in his own blood, probably died instantly. We wont know until he's in autopsy, but it seems safe to assume he died from a gunshot."

"Yeah—"

"—We got that." Shawn finished distractedly for his friend. There was nothing really out of place on the elderly man, it looked just like someone snuck up behind him and popped off a round. Juliet motioned around the room at all the rows of old crap for the team.

"He ran the entire store single handedly. He doesn't seem to have many friends, except for the people he played bridge with: Howie from the deli, Frank from the musical instrument store around the corner, and an old woman called Bev who runs the 'Jugular' next door."

"Isn't that that really skanky bar that practically pays _you_ for a lap dance?" Shawn asked in confusion, momentarily distracted from the dead man. Juliet nodded with a look that clearly showed the information shocked her as well. Suddenly pelted by incredibly horrifying images, Shawn announced "There is not enough water on Earth for all the showers I need now."

"Moving on," One equally disturbed detective insisted. "There's evidence in the back of a break in. Come on, follow me." Leading the duo through the aisles of antiques they reached the back door and swept their eyes over it as one. The glass had shattered inward just like it would from a rock. And Shawn knew that from experience. But... that didn't make sense.

"Hey Jules, this is wrong." Taking the bait as he knew she would, she asked:

"Wrong how?" He almost grinned at the genuine interest and the way her face showed just how she was sorting through the pieces.

"There's no defensive wounds on Marcos, he wasn't even facing the rear exit. But he would have to hear a rock smashing through the window. Why didn't he turn around?" Juliet twisted her mouth in thought.

"He could have been hard of hearing." She even sounded skeptical of her argument. Shawn opened his mouth to explain there were no hearing aids in his ears, until he stopped himself to put a hand to his temple in Classic

Psychic Mode 2.

"Eesh, ah, ah, no! Not so loud! His hearing was fine, fine, fine enough to notice a shattering of glass! No, he didn't hear it because the 'break-in' was after he was already dead." He concluded. Phew... Close call. It was getting harder for Shawn to remember to lie around Jules. Maybe he was too relaxed with her, that must be why he often forgot to do the vision thing instead of just bouncing theories off each other.

"Can you prove it?" Juliet asked, half challenging, half curious. This time he did smile. Looking at the hole, he noticed how far it was from the actual handle. The glass broke closer to the opposite side and up a good 4 inches.

"Can you get Buzz over here?" Shawn asked Juliet. If the request sounded odd, she didn't acknowledge it. Gus waited until she was out of earshot before he spoke up.

"You're doing it again."

"Doing what?" Shawn asked, playing ignorant. Gus scowled.

"You know what I'm talking about. You're flirting. With Juliet of all people!" He said the last part as if the idea was absurd. Shawn bit back a retort. He never planned on telling Gus about the encounter at the drive-in, not even if he married Jules and had 6 kids.

"I'm not flirting, this is me being concerned about a friend Gus." The other man snorted.

"Please!" Looking behind him, Gus must've seen Jules returning with Buzz because he whispered the last bit, "When I get in another life threatening situation because of you don't hold my hand for 5 minutes straight!" Standing up straighter, Gus smoothed out his dress shirt as the detectives joined them. Shawn rolled his eyes at his partner's ridiculous actions and words.

"Happy to help, Mr. Spencer!" The always chipper (I mean it's practically obscene. 2:30 AM damn it...) Buzz McNabb stood at attention and gave a small salute. Shawn lifted his chin and posed as a commanding officer.

"Good man," He said in the gruffest voice possible. He stepped to the side. "Now... go outside and stick your arm through this window."

"Shawn!" His two friends immediately objected. Buzz looked a bit skittish himself.

"Uh... sir?"

"We need to see if a man could use this hole to get inside. Therefore someone has to stick their arm into it." Buzz nodded hesitantly and opened the door to stand on the other side.

"Shawn, if he gets hurt, I wont have a problem arresting you for assaulting a police officer." Juliet warned him, proving once again how much she liked and protected McNabb. Shawn nodded to show he understood completely; he'd feel terrible if Buzz got stabbed because he needed a guinea pig.

Buzz carefully maneuvered his hand through the hole, slipping cautiously past the large edges. Once his elbow was on the other side, Juliet's mouth fell open. There was a jagged spike coming from the exact direction of the door handle. Even Buzz, who had to be around 6'5", would never be able to reach it without impaling his arm. The break-in was staged.

"Well there's only one reason someone would fake a break-in." Juliet said once Buzz was free and back to his job. "They had a way in already. Do you think Marcos let him in? They could have been staging a robbery for the insurance, but the deal went wrong?" She asked, trying to work it out verbally.

"It's possible," Gus agreed, "It would account for why someone would rob an antiques store. I mean, it's all just old moldy junk. Why not the deli across the street? Or a jewelry store?"

"You're on to something there Gus, but I'm not so sure about the insurance angle. If it was someone he knew, they would get his attention and he would have turned to face them. No, the guy had to be sneaking up on him."

"You're right about that Shawn, but I still don't think we should rule it out." Juliet said. He nodded, still deep in thought.

"He had to have a key." Shawn muttered just loud enough for the others to hear. "So either it was someone Marcos trusted enough to give him a key, or—"

"He stole it from a friend, or they worked together." Juliet finished for him, a little too enthusiastic than was respectful with a dead body in the room.

"That's where we start then. You said he only seemed to have 3 friends? Can we look for more? Maybe relatives?" Juliet whipped out her cell phone, texting the station probably.

"Doing it now." She confirmed for them. Jules looked back up. "We'll have the information in the morning—er, later this morning, I guess. The officers are instructed to search for any evidence of theft, so we'll have to get out of here." They started the walk back to the front exit.

"Was he carrying anything when you caught him?" He asked in confusion, brows knit together.

"No," Juliet said, shaking her head. "But he could have been transferring things to his van for who knows how long before I got here." Once they emerged from the scene, the group stood for a moment to watch as cops filled into the tiny shop to investigate. After a minute or two, awkward silence fell over them as they all mutually realized it was time for the duo to leave.

"So, I think we're done here for a while. Made some progress, good work team, pop and lock it, boom..." Shawn said in that voice he often used when he pretended his gibberish made perfect sense. Juliet smiled at him and all the tension vanished.

"Just remember, you're not hired yet, the Chief will decide tomorrow." She reminded them. Shawn shrugged as if it didn't matter (which it probably didn't), but Gus nodded and did a weird little quarter-bow.

"Yes, and thank you Juliet. Take care of your self." Juliet looked a bit creeped out by his formal address. She smirked and gave him a half-bow in return, which made Shawn laugh despite his attempts to keep it in. Gus punched him in the arm and sent Juliet a weak glare before he stalked back to the car. Shawn blinked once he realized he was alone with Jules. It felt strangely like the end of a date. Why did he keep getting these feelings around her at the most random of times?

"I better go before he drives off without me." Shawn said, sighing dejectedly which made Juliet giggle for the tiniest of moments. It sounded like sunlight. "See yah Jules!" He called as he started running after his best friend, a lopsided grin growing slowly from the memory of her laugh.


	3. Special Safe Smiles

**We Were Hoping for More **_**Porky's**_** than **_**Shoot to Kill**_**. Sorry!**

"Yawning. I hate yawning. How can people stand such...yawning?" A certain Head Detective muttered as he looked out over the bullpen. Juliet glanced up in irritation.

"What do you expect after the night we've all had?" She asked him, fatigue weighing on every syllable. "Are you telling me you never yawn?"

"No," He replied innocently as he took another sip of coffee, "why?"

_Move on, move on, move on!_ Her brain screamed. "Uh, uh, uh... did we get a match on the sketch?" _Nice save!_ Juliet congratulated herself as Lassiter's face suddenly switched to that of smelling sour milk.

"Not yet, but they're working on it. We did get a match on the slugs though. Shot twice in the back, .45 ACP, Bellatrize didn't stand a chance."

"Any fingerprints off the bullets?"

"None, they were wiped clean. No fingerprints anywhere in that place, the guy's either really smart or really careful." Grunting her agreement, Juliet tried again.

"How about fibers?" Lassiter shook his head.

"Nothing. Well..." Juliet perked up, "Just some cotton blend, could have come from anywhere." She slumped back down in her chair.

"Great! So we've got nothing!"

"Nothing but a dead body and a whole lot'a questions." He confirmed.

"Well maybe we can help sort some of this out then, Detectives." Juliet and Carlton both looked up at the two newcomers.

Wearing blacker-than-black neat suits, both holding up their Federal Bureau of Investigation badges, and looking cockily secure, the men identified themselves as Agents Sanders and Bell. Lassiter shot out of his chair to shake their hands vigorously. Juliet barely stopped herself rolling her eyes as she stood much slower. Chief Vick poked her head out of her office.

"Detectives, Agents, would you all join me in here." The F.B.I. agents strolled casually after her, Lassiter trailing like a little puppy. Juliet hesitated for a moment, concerned over what her vagueness might mean, until her boss called "O'Hara!" more insistently. Deep breath in, and Juliet followed.

"May I ask what this is about Chief?" She asked immediately. The two men were watching her from where they sat, and it was unnerving. Karen gathered her thoughts before answering.

"O'Hara, there's a problem with the Bellatrize investigation." Her partner snapped out of his adoration immediately.

"What are you talking about! How can there be a problem, it hasn't even been 12 hours yet!"

"Carlton," Vick warned, sending that very special glare that shut Lassiter up every time. Turning back to Juliet, the Chief continued. "The situation is more serious than we thought. The sketch has been identified as Mr. Oscar King."

"King is wanted for armed robbery and murder in several states." Agent Sanders informed them. "He was part of a small gang who've stolen up to $7 million from small banks across the country. Recently the band of thieves have been killing each other off, bodies of his known partners being recovered in Texas, Arizona and Southern California."

"And you think King is the last man standing." Lassiter concluded for them.

"We do," Bell said as his eyes shifted to Juliet. "And we want to take this bastard down hard."

Feeling as if she had a bad idea where this was going, Juliet asked "And how can we help?"

"No one has been able to positively I.D. him in any of the robberies or murders." Sanders said.

"Until now that is." Bell corrected, something sounding close to complementary in his voice. Karen closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Juliet you're going into protective custody." A few moments went by before the inevitable shriek.

"WHAT?!?!"

"You can't be serious!" Lassiter's voice blotted out the echo of his partner's shout.

"We're entirely serious detectives." Sanders said, an edge now audible in his words.

"King is a desperate, violent man." Bell chipped in, though his voice was much kinder. "He knows you can identify him in court, and believe me once he's behind bars we can make sure he never gets out. King is not going to let that happen, not if he can help it."

"Your life is in danger," his partner said, "And right now we need you."

"Oh, thanks for that!" Juliet scoffed. She turned to Lassiter but was shocked when he refused to meet her eyes. "Carlton, don't tell me you're in favor of this!" He faced her, and she could see the genuine concern in his eyes.

"O'Hara, it's the best plan we've got. I can handle the investigation, you need to be safe." Juliet would have been touched if she wasn't so upset.

"I'm not going to sit around doing nothing while everyone else is out there catching this guy!"

"I'm afraid there's no other choice." Her boss told her softly and sadly. Juliet could see then she had lost the battle. With a sigh, she gave in.

"So how is this going to work?" Bell smiled, white teeth shinning at her.

"There's a safe house near Punta. I'll be your guard. It's lovely actually, right on the beach."

"It's not a vacation." Sanders reprimanded. Turning to Lassiter and the Chief, he continued "I'll be working with the Santa Barbara Police to catch Oscar King. It's best if we focus on his most recent break-in."

"And murder." Vick added sharply. Sanders nodded to acknowledge her.

"Once we have him in custody we can pin the other crimes on him. We're going to have to move fast. Hopefully the chance to kill Miss O'Hara will be incentive to stay in the area, but we can't guarantee he wont make a run for it."

"I'm sorry, I'm confused. Am I a witness or bait?" Juliet sneered at him.

"Your safety is our main concern." Bell assured her gently.

"King needs to be captured soon, is what I really meant." Sanders apologized, though it seemed stiff as if he wasn't used to the concept.

"We'll have someone drop by your home to pack your things." Bell told her. It was at that moment that Shawn Spencer psychic extraordinaire burst through the door, hands by his temples.

"Did someone order a panty raid?"

~*~One Half Chapter Earlier~*~

"Shawn, we cannot be doing this!" An angry voice hissed from the general vicinity of Shawn's torso.

"Don't be quill-less porcupine Gus!" Shawn whispered back. "What would be the purpose of cutting a hole in the Chief's really high window if we didn't spy on her meetings?" From the annoyed huff he could tell Gus was rolling his eyes in exasperation.

"If you fall, I will not catch you."

"Dude, I'm standing on a chair, how likely is it that I'll fall to my death?"

"It could wobble Shawn, how do you know it's level?"

"Would you stop, I'm trying to eavesdrop!" Sounds drifted out the tiny hole he had made one night and into his ear just and inch below. He'd already learned the name and MO that Oscar King used, but the thing with Jules was the most pressing issue. The man she'd dropped in on was a serious criminal. Not that she couldn't take care of herself, Jules really was kickass. It was only her shriek that snapped him out of his fond musings.

"WHAT?!?!" Wincing as the noise blasted his eardrum to bits, he turned his head so his eye watched the scene progress. Jules was looking furious, strands of blonde hair escaping from her ponytail to fall over her slightly red face. Shawn smiled a bit at the sight. Chief Vick looked sympathetic while Lassiter looked stunned. From his new position he could now get a good look at the two F.B.I. agents.

One of them was balding and harsh looking, with sharp features like a hawk. The other, Shawn noticed in displeasure, was very good looking. He had dark brown hair slicked back artfully with hair gel, large brown eyes, and, dear lord, actual _dimples_ when he smiled! And his teeth were scarily white. It was like he guzzled bleach or something! Oh... he was missing the action completely.

The obscenely handsome one was talking to Jules again. "There's a safe house near Punta. I'll be your guard. It's lovely actually, right on the beach."

Woah, red flag! Jules and Mr. Dimples alone in a beach front cottage for an undefined period of time? Shawn was already itching to pull his fantastic hair out. This was not going to fly.

Not that he had a problem with Jules and the man gazing dewy eyed at her being... together-ish. He was just concerned about her safety is all. How do they know this empty-headed Ken doll of an agent is good enough to protect her? Yeah... that's all.

Oh, it was winding down to the formalities. He had to make an entrance soon. Shawn was not going to be left out of this! Hearing the perfect opportunity, he hopped off the chair, rushing past Gus who was still keeping watch, Shawn pushed open the doors with a flourish.

"Did someone order a panty raid?"


	4. Pretty Pink Panties

**We Were Hoping for More **_**Porky's**_** than **_**Shoot to Kill**_**. Sorry!**

"I can't believe you."

"Gus, you act like I _don't_ sign us up for dangerous missions every week."

"You know damn well this has nothing to do with the case. This is about Juliet and a beachfront cabin."

"Honestly Gus, you say the craziest things. Besides the case is all about Juliet staying in a beachfront cabin. So really, everyone wins. Except you Gus, you die frightened and alone with no one to blame but yourself."

"I do not!"

"Who's the psychic here my friend?"

"Psychic my black ass!"

"Now now, no need to speak for your ass. Just because it's black doesn't mean it can't have it's own opinions."

"Wow, I can't even begin to respond to that."

"So's your face."

If your wondering what our dynamic duo is arguing about (besides Gus' ass' rights) here is a flashback that will hopefully fill everyone in:

**"Who the hell is this guy?" Agent Sanders demanded once the appalled shock from Shawn's ridiculous entrance had subsided. Chief Vick had closed her eyes as if she believed she could imagine him away. Lassiter was grinding his teeth and staring at the ceiling. Luckily Jules seemed to be relieved. Of course the two agents were frowning and scowling at him.**

**"Head Psychic for the SBPD," Shawn informed them, apparently not aware of his delusions of grandeur. "You feds have probably heard of me. Shawn Spencer. I clean up the justice system's mess, all the time really. I'm quite well known in the industry."**

**"Never heard of you." The pretty one said, not sounding as kind this time. Shawn never lost his smile.**

**"Ah, I see. Cover up, I understand. Not many can handle my awesome powers." Sanders rolled his eyes.**

**"Mr. Spencer," The Chief managed to open her eyes to address him, "Is there any reason you've interrupted our meeting?"**

**"Yes indeed your Chiefliness! It's the funniest thing, I had a vision of Sean Connery surrounded by dancing dwarfs!"**

**"Yes, we know Shawn, 'King'. His full name is Oscar King." Juliet informed him in a bored tone.**

**"Hmm," Shawn said, stroking his imaginary beard. "Let me guess. Big time criminal, not above killing his friends let alone cops, and probably wanting to..." He trailed off, as the full impact hit him suddenly. Her life was in jeopardy. This bad guy was targeting Jules. She could die. But that was inconceivable. A life without her...**

**"Kill me, I get it." Jules finished for him, crossing her arms in a weak attempt to protect herself from the need for protection. Shawn cleared his throat which had suddenly gone tight.**

**"I volunteer!" He said loudly, raising his hand in the air.**

**"Volunteer for what?" (stupid handsome devil) Bell asked, not sounding happy in the slightest.**

**"Well Mr. Bleach-Teeth," Mr. Bleach-Teeth grimaced at the nickname, "I volunteer for protection duty."**

**"I've got it covered," He argued.**

**"I don't see why Mr. Spencer shouldn't come along. He's been incredibly helpful with so many of our cases. An extra pair of qualified hands can't hurt." The Chief vouched for him. Shawn felt a little bubbly at that vote of confidence. Oh, but one detail was missing.**

**"Gus wants to help too!" His best friend who had refused to follow his ridiculous entrance suddenly stuck his head in. "Don't you Gus?" Shawn asked him pleasantly. Of course, soon it had dissolved into a whisper fight. Emerging from the fray, Shawn turned back to the room as a whole. "Gus says yes. How about it Chief?" With a sigh that clearly showed she knew better than to split the team up, Vick nodded.**

**"Yes Mr. Guster, you can come too. Just remember, this is no vacation. You can't talk to many strangers, no phone calls, and don't stray too far from the safe house."**

**"Got it Chief!" Shawn said with a lopsided grin. "So should we drop by Jules' place to pack?" Juliet looked a bit redder at that. The Chief nodded again though this one had a hint of an amused smile.**

**"Meet back here for the secure transit vehicle at 1:00."**

**"Yes ma'am!" He said before bounding out of the office in his haste to see Jules' apartment.**

Which is what brings him here, in her new apartment! She had had a house, but on a detective's salary she had needed to trade down. Shawn was folding some of her best shirts to move into the suitcase Gus had found. If you're a woman and you need a man to pack for you, you have to expect a bag full of sexy!

"So staying in a beach house with the girl you chased for three years has nothing to do with your decision?" Gus argued, his hands now pulling out some jeans and skirts from her bureau.

"Gus please! I'm a professional." Ignoring the snicker of doubt emanating from his best friend, Shawn continued, "Besides, it sounds like the perfect place to work on the case."

"You do realize we can't question any of the suspects, right?"

"Eh, I'll read Lassie's report. I can get enough from that. Can you believe he and the F.B.I. guy are going to work together? It'll be a total train wreck!" Shawn said with a laugh. It _was_ really funny. Picking up a skimpy lace nightgown he would never imagine Jules buying, he packed it along with her fleece pajamas. He wasn't going to force her into anything. Gus' voice broke the careful silence.

"Have you even thought about calling Abby?"

"Oh shit!" Shawn exclaimed pulling out his iPhone and punching the numbers quickly. Moving away from Gus, who had the grace to focus on his task rather than the juicy phone call.

"Yes?" Abigail asked sweetly.

"Hey babe, I have to tell you something."

"Yeah, what is it hun? Are you ok?" She asked, sounding more worried than the situation warranted. Licking his lips nervously, Shawn plowed on.

"I'm fine. I just have a case, and to solve this I have to go away."

"Go away? What does that mean?"

"Abs, I have to leave Santa Barbara for some time. I can't tell you where, it's top secret." He said, trying for a spy accent to lighten the mood. It apparently didn't work.

"For how long?" Abby asked, her voice sounding both worried and a bit angry.

"It depends on when I solve the case, babe. I'll be working hard on it but there's no telling when I can come home. I'm sorry I can't tell you more, but I have to go."

"Can you call me once your there?" She asked, now sounding hurt.

"Nope, no phone calls. We have to stay under the radar." Abs snorted over the line.

"Great! You're choosing your job over your girlfriend once again! Why am I surprised? Have fun on your crime filled vacation. I'm sure it'll be a lot more fun than when you get home!" Abigail said before hanging up. Shawn grimaced as he put the phone back in his pocket.

"Well that went well." He muttered wearily, walking back to the suitcase to continue their job. Taking note of the shirts, pants, skirts, pajamas, hats, belts, socks, and shoes all neatly placed in the travel bag, Shawn realized with so much excitement it made him lightheaded that the only thing missing was lingerie!

"Oh Gus... today is possibly the best day in all my eventful years." His friend must've sensed the ideas and fantasies running through the childish man's head.

"Oh no Shawn, Juliet would kill me if she found out I let you pick out her underwear!"

"Don't be such a wimp Gus!" Shawn said as he ambled over to the dresser. "We're all adults here."

"You are definitely not an adult. You tried to buy a kid's ticket the last time we _tried_ to go to the movies!" His friend insisted futile.

"It's like half the price! It was worth a shot." He argued, already opening the drawer. Shawn felt heavenly when he looked inside. It was like... man heaven!

Bras, lacy and colorful in all varieties lay before him. Tiny bits of fabric he supposed had to be her panties captured his rapt attention. Pairs of beautiful patterns almost made him sigh in contentment. One pair had matching roses on them. Dear God! Thongs. Juliet O'Hara had thongs... His mind was about to implode. Of course there were granny-panties as well, and Shawn supposed he should be nice and pack two of those. But then again he packed several skimpy matching sets. Gus watched this ridiculous display, half exasperated and half amused.

Mostly absorbed by his wonderful task, Shawn stopped as something caught his attention. A breaking sound coming from the hallway. Like someone had thrown something through a window. Someone who probably had a better arsenal than just a rock. A small hissing sound was all it took for Shawn to grab his best friend's arm, pulling him to the ground.

The grenade's explosion silenced Gus' confused protests.


	5. For Flitting Flirters

**We Were Hoping for More **_**Porky's**_** than **_**Shoot to Kill**_**. Sorry!**

The silence belied the chaos that had just transpired. The absence of sound seemed deafening after the explosion. Dust settled over their heads, making the two friends look ghostly pale. Still holding Gus' arm for dear life, Shawn raised his head slowly to survey the damage.

Shrapnel had been thrown everywhere. The wooden bureau had metal digging into it's side that would almost certainly be lethal had they not ducked for cover. They were lucky enough to have made it past the doorway so the wall was mostly protecting them. But the room was still a wreck. Shawn couldn't imagine what would've happened if her bedroom had a window. They'd most certainly be dead. The hallway had to be a war zone by now.

Gus coughed, bringing Shawn's attention back to his friend. "Hey, you alright man?" He coughed again before answering.

"Yeah, it's just dusty. You?" Shawn nodded in reply.

"Let's grab the suitcase and get back to the station fast. We should head out as soon as possible." With a snort that failed to dislodge the plaster still in his nose, Gus replied.

"Just one question."

"Shoot."

"Who's gonna tell Juliet?"

~*~

"Chief! Chief! Chief! Chiefity-chiefity Chief-chief!"

"ENOUGH!" The aggravated voice came from the Chief's office (surprise, surprise) which Shawn raced into immediately. Chief Vick, who had probably been about to lecture him on shouting nonsense in the halls, stopped at the sight of him.

"Uh, Mr. Spencer, why are you dripping wet?"

"Because there was a bomb in Jules' apartment." He answered as if it was perfectly logical for explosives to douse you in water. At the Chief's dubious look, Shawn consented to continue. "Someone through a grenade through her window, we ducked for cover using my amazing psychic powers, managed to escape unscathed except covered in little mini-apartment pieces, Gus found a hose so we washed ourselves down outside on the street." The Chief starred at him for a moment. "Yeah it was a little weird."

"Someone attacked you at O'Hara's place?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I'll send Detective Lassiter and Agent Sanders to investigate right away," She said, already punching numbers into her desk phone. "You and Mr. Guster better get on the transport vehicle right away." Vick paused, looking up to meet his eyes. "Take care of her." It was probably the most concern the Chief would show for her friend. Shawn smiled, his own anxiety making it a shadow of his usual grin. With just a little hint of swagger in his step, he twisted around on one foot and left the Chief to her business.

Meeting up with Gus, who had been waiting patiently with Juliet's luggage outside the office while Shawn did his thing, the duo headed down to the parking lot. The large also blacker-than-black van was idling by the exit, a harried blonde standing beside the ever-slick agent. At their approach, both turned to look in shock.

"Shawn, Gus, what happened? You're soaked!" Jules asked. The friends glanced at each other before responding.

"Just these crazy California storms, y'know!" Shawn said, gesticulating wildly. His friend picked up the line instantly.

"Yes, our frequent short bursts of rain often upset the delicate balance of nature."

"And our plans?" Shawn added, pointing to Gus with an exaggerated wink.

"You know that's right!" He finished with a laugh. Meanwhile Juliet and Bell stood completely still, gaping openly.

"Now that's cleared up, how 'bout this road trip, huh?" Shawn said, his exuberance breaking the tension like a grenade through a window that no one would tell Jules about...

~*~

"So Miss O'Hara," Agent Bell began. "Do you have any family in the area?" Juliet looked at him in surprise. He was driving the black van down the narrow back roads, Juliet had shotgun, and Shawn and Gus were drying in the row behind them. It was a little awkward.

"Um, not really. Most of my family is still in Florida." She replied.

"Oh, that must be tough. Long distance relationships and all that." Bell said sympathetically. Jules smiled at him, genuinely touched by his interest.

"Yeah, it makes the holidays difficult, everyone having to arrange way in advance, you know?"

"Any boyfriend you need to notify?" He asked gingerly. Juliet bit her lip as she tried to contain the little smile spreading on her face. He was being very cute about his fishing. A muffled groan told her Shawn disagreed.

"Not at the moment, no." Bell sent a bright smile her way.

"D'you mind keeping your eyes on the road? Don't want to do King's work for him, do we?" Juliet frowned and twisted towards Shawn. Time to set everyone straight.

"Everything's going fine, Shawn. Did you call Abigail before we left?" Did she imagine the grimace that flitted over his features? Of course she did.

"Yes." The one word answer would have caught her attention had Bell not spoken.

"Who's Abigail?" Juliet turned back to him.

"His girlfriend."

"Oh." He looked pleased by that for some reason.

"Yeah. She's very nice. They've known each other since High School." She remarked.

"Ah, it's so nice to see such commitment nowadays." Bell said, looking back to their row with a smirk.

"Is it supposed to take this long to get to Punta?" Shawn demanded harshly. Juliet rolled her eyes at his childish behavior. "I swear it's like 20 minutes away!"

"No major streets. Protocol." Bell intoned for the dozenth time.

"Really. So it's totally logical to transport wanted people over the very secluded dirt roads. That's why I'll never be F.B.I. 'cause that doesn't make any sense to me."

"I'm sure there are lots of reasons you'll never be F.B.I." Bell murmured with a glance at Juliet. She couldn't stop the giggle bubbling up. Shawn groaned again and slumped back into his seat with a thud.

"Agent Bell-"

"Please, we can use first names. I'm Dave." He said pleasantly. Juliet smiled, this time definitely going for flirty.

"Nice to meet you Dave. My name is Juliet."

"Dave Bell," came an uninvited voice from the back seat, "What an incredibly boring name. You don't even have the alliteration thing going on. How sorry for you am I!" Bell sighed. Juliet rested her head against the window. From their seats they could just barely make out the quick whispered argument and shoving fight the two friends began. Turning back to her tentative new interest, Juliet started again.

"So Dave," The row behind them fell silent once more. "What about you? Do you often get assignments like this?"

"Well, my partner and I have been tracking King and his little gang for a while now. So I've got experience with him and his style."

"That must be hard on your personal life, huh?" She asked, now fishing back. Juliet could tell of course how into her the agent already was, but by pretending to check him out like this, she was hinting back that she would accept his interest. Ah the subtleties of dating. Bell grinned, once again taking his eyes off the narrow road to glance at her.

"Not completely. It does make it hard to find a girlfriend though." Jules nodded sympathetically, though the teenage cheerleader in her leapt for joy. "But I'm sure as a dedicated detective you understand."

"Oh yes, it's hard with my busy lifestyle, but I'm so glad I do manage to get out sometimes." Bell nodded, suddenly jerking the wheel to turn off the rugged road to emerge onto a more sand covered street. Soon they pulled to a stop.

"We're here." He announced.

"THANK GOD!"

~*~

Shawn was never more relieved to get out of a car in his life! He had just had to suffer through Juliet and Bell flaunting their attraction in his face for 35 minutes! It was all 'Dave this' and 'Juliet that' and 'I manage to get laid, aren't I special?'! He was nearly certain he'd burst at least one artery in his contained rage. Gus kept hitting him when he looked excessively angry too, that hadn't helped. Once they finally reached the safe house, Shawn would've been willing to sleep in a towel propped up on two sticks for all he cared.

Thankfully, the accommodation was slightly better than that. It was built on a secluded strip of beach with rocks sheltering them from both sides. The house was a two story, with three bedrooms, two bathrooms and a kitchen/living room area with a couch that folded out. Everyone took a moment to gaze up at it appraisingly before their attention was diverted to the unknown man waiting by the van. Bell tossed him the keys and the man drove off in it.

"Trade off. Can't be seen in something so conspicuous." Jules nodded, even though Shawn didn't see the brilliance of his plan. "If we need to drive anywhere we'll be using this," Idiot/Bell gestured to the dusty clunker sitting by the road. "But we should all try not to need it." He instructed, mostly directed at Shawn and Gus. Shawn would've stuck his tongue out at him had Gus not strategically stomped on his foot.

As Gus and Bell started to pull out the luggage (the F.B.I. had been kind enough to pick up something for the men as well), Juliet spoke.

"Is it OK if I go for my nightly run?" The men stopped to stare at her. Jules shifted uncomfortably. "It helps me fall asleep." She defended herself. Bell straightened up.

"You'll need an escort." Seeing the opportunity, Shawn sprinted to Jules' side.

"I'll go, you two can focus on unpacking. You're nearly done anyway, getting out the car is half the battle." Bell looked like he was about to object, but Gus, forever the excellent wingman, conveniently pushed the travel case into his arms. Already backing up, Shawn and Jules (who was silent throughout the macho display) heard one last warning before running off into the distance.

"Don't stray too far!"


	6. Beach Bungalow Baby

**We Were Hoping for More **_**Porky's**_** than **_**Shoot to Kill**_**. Sorry!**

Detective Lassiter—WAIT—Head Detective Lasstier had seen some pretty weird people in his police work, but none quite like Bev. Bev was the owner of the nightclub 'Jugular', and a friend of Marcos Bellatrize. Therefore she was a suspect in the investigation of his murder. Which meant he had to interact with her.

With Agent Sanders by his side, Carlton stepped into the club with as much authority he could muster. Thankfully it was only 6:00 so the night crowd had yet to settle in. Walking up to the bar, he pulled out his badge, as did Sanders, only to be rebuffed by the 20-something barmaid.

"If you're here to shut us down, too bad, we have permits and can cite several legal books on why we are perfectly legit." She rattled off in a flat bored tone. Lassiter shot a look at Agent Sanders in confusion.

"Er... we're just here to talk to Bev." He said uncertainly. The girl popped her gum and unexpectedly yelled.

"BEEEEV!!!!" Instinctively covering their ears and ducking, the two men straightened up to gawk at the figure now before them.

Bev resembled a skeleton covered in a light coat of paper-mache, with a face made out of make-up. She moved gracefully, her pale skin shinning in the dim lighting. She held a cigarette daintily in one hand, and her bright red painted lips would puff on it every once and a while. In her shimmering purple sequins dress, she looked like the twenties personified and aged about a hundred years.

"Have you informed them of our papers?" Bev asked her barmaid. The girl waved a hand dismissively. Bev nodded and stepped closer to the astonished men.

"Anything you want?" She asked, in what she must imagine was a seductive way. The failed attempt shocked Carlton out of his open-mouthed staring.

"Madam," He began graciously. She fluttered her incredibly fake lashes at him. "We're here to question you about your relationship with Marcos Bellatrize."

"You mean that we were lovers?" Bev asked quizzically. Sanders took over at Lassiter's vague gagging sound.

"You had a key to his store, correct?"

"Yes. But what does that have to do with anything?" She asked in confusion. Taking a deep breath, he told her.

"Marcos is dead." Shock flitted over her features, and she pulled back from the men a little.

"H-how?"

"Murdered. A known criminal broke into his shop last night and shot him in the back. We believe he died instantly." Bev took deep calming breaths and began to pace. Sanders and Lassiter shared a look: either she was innocent or a fantastic actress.

"Poor bastard was old enough," She remarked off-handedly. "He would've liked to die quickly. Oh," Bev moaned a little, "He always did work too much. D'you know he travels all across the country searching for his junk. 'Treasures' he calls them..." She put a hand over her now watery eyes.

"Do you still have your key?" Bev nodded vigorously before answering.

"I keep it on my person at all times. Trust me, it's in a safe place." Knowing that if they didn't leave soon, they were very likely to vomit or faint, the men extricated themselves as fast as they could. Breathing the fresh non-creepy air outside the club, Lassiter turned to Sanders.

"I don't think she's our guy. As eccentric as she is," they both shivered, "Her first look of shock was genuine."

"I'll check up on her with my superiors, can you fax Spencer your report?" The involuntary scowl that scrunched his face at Shawn's name soon dissipated as his thoughts turned to his partner. His partner.

God he hoped Spencer took _this_ job seriously. For her sake.

~*~

For the umpteenth time Juliet cursed the fact that her run coincided with the sunset.

When Shawn had offered to run with her, she had accepted. He probably thought it was for an entirely different reason. In reality, she just wanted to sort things out with him. For a few minutes they jogged along the beach just out of reach of the waves in silence. It didn't stay that way for long.

"So... you and Bell, huh? What's up with that." Thankfully she was running ahead of him so he couldn't see her small self-satisfactionary grin. She phrased her answer carefully.

"Yeah, he seems really sweet. _I_ think he's interested. What about you?"

"Interested in what? Wood-chipping?" With a tiny sigh, Jules knew she would have to ask him directly.

"Interested in me, Shawn. What do you think?"

"Ah. Well..." He blew out a breath. "He certainly seems interested in something."

"Shawn!" She warned.

"What? I'm simply saying his motives look really clear to me. That or I clearly need a refresher course on the birds and the bees."

"Shawn, all I want is your opinion of him, please be serious for just a minute." Jules realized she was pleading but at this point she really didn't care.

"Why are you asking me, Jules? What does my opinion matter?" Juliet stopped running, Shawn stopping directly in front of her.

"Because you're my friend."

~*~

There it was. The platonic barrier separating him from Bell. Men like Bell were able to 'be interested' in Jules. But not Shawn. By his own choice of course but that didn't soften the blow like he had thought it would. Bell could touch her with impunity. Shawn couldn't even dream about it without feeling immensely guilty.

"Well?" She demanded, her expression both sad and disappointed. Disappointed in him. For so many things. And man she looked beautiful. The light from the setting sun on the right illuminated her now gold strands falling over her bright face. The only things not affected were her eyes. The blue looked like a pond. Because there was that hint of tears.

"He's... ok." It was the most he could say without revealing the truth. Jules nodded, probably realizing that was the best she would ever get out of him. They began to run once more, back the way they came. This time it was her that broke the silence.

"How are things with Abigail?" Ugh. How to answer that...

"Uh, she's good." He could see her eyebrows bunch together from her profile.

"That's not really what I asked, Shawn." Damn it.

"She's, uh... a little pissed at me."

"Why?" Why was she even asking?

"Mostly because I like to do 'work' whereas she likes to date me. It's a big complicated mess."

"I see. So you bail on dates to work on cases?"

"Uh... you're kinda vying with Gus on the nut-shelling records right now."

"Yeah, I can get that. I've done it a few times actually."

"Nut-shelling or Gus?"

"No, blowing off my dates."

"Ah." Uncertain pause. "What's the percentage like?"

"What?"

"Well if you only date like a few times a year than the amount you blow off is really impressive. But if you date a lot..." He could tell by the smirk she was now wearing that he wasn't very subtle with his fishing.

"I'm a woman, Shawn."

"Yes, so I've heard. What does that mean?" They were approaching the house now. It wasn't until she had her hand on the doorknob that Jules answered him. In possibly the best voice he'd ever heard her use.

"I have wants and _needs_." She grinned like the cat who flirted her way out of a dog kennel at his dumbstruck expression, and left him reeling on the porch.

Once Shawn had overcome his shock, he too pushed open the door to admire their new temporary home. Jules was standing by Bell, naturally, while Gus was probably upstairs sorting through the luggage. Shawn strode in, trying to act like he had not only now realized that Jules was a sexual being in her own right. The two were deep in conversation but looked up when he walked in.

"So, who sleeps where?" He asked in a falsely bright voice. Bell answered in a commanding way.

"You, me, and Guster will take shifts to keep watch. Juliet, the largest bedroom is up the stairs to your right." He gave her the briefest look of his pearly teeth before addressing Shawn once more. "I had Mr. Guster put his and your things in the downstairs bedroom under the stairs to the right of the kitchen area where you'll stay. Guster will sleep on the sofa-bed. There's a room to the left on the second floor where I'll be staying if you need me. The person on watch will sit on the porch. Any questions?"

Oh the cunning little bastard. His and Jules' rooms were across from each other, within midnight wandering range, while anyone who would protect Jules' innocence was downstairs. His opponent was good. Too good.

"No, there's no problem." Shawn said, even though his stomach was attempting advance yoga poses inside him.

"So what's for dinner?"

"Canned beans on a hot plate." Came a familiar voice as it's owner walked down the stairs. "I checked and there's nothing but canned beans in this entire house." They could now see Gus' grimace in the fading light. The quartet stood awkwardly, all weighing their options.

"I'm bushed!"

"Yeah, I'm not that hungry anyway."

"Such an eventful day and all!"

"Beans aren't really my thing."

*Entirely fake yawn*

"I'll take first watch!"

"Good night!"

"Good night!"

"Sleep well!"

"See you in the morning!"


	7. Food Feelings Found

**We Were Hoping for More **_**Porky's**_** than **_**Shoot to Kill**_**. Sorry!**

The first groggy thought that Shawn could muster as he slowly awoke was that some entirely un-friendly familiar voice was yelling at him through wood of some kind. The next thought was that whoever was trying to shout at him was shouting through a door. Well, once he reached the door stage everything fell into place.

"Shawn!" One frustrated Scottish beauty called as she pounded on the thin wooden door. "Wake up already! It's 9 AM and we're starving!" Now pushing himself up into slouching position, Shawn managed to grunt back.

"'M awake!"

"Thank God!" She yelled back, relief and pent up frustration melding in her voice. "Shift your lazy ass out of bed and get out here!" Once again Shawn marveled at the way curses could flow out her mouth so easily while clashing with her personality so entirely! Throwing on a blue t-shirt and pulling on some cheap-yet-sexy jeans, he opened the door to come face to face with Juliet.

Her wavy blonde hair, simple and dainty make-up, and the look of a harried mother trying to get teenagers up for school suggested she had been awake for some time now. Her beige pants, sandals, and white V-neck caught his eye, the neckline making them jump to her eyes out of habit. She did look good though. But then again he thought she looked stunning in a pant suit and gun drawn.

"What's up Jules? Breakfast?" Shawn asked, the perfect image of casual as he leaned against the door frame. Juliet grabbed his arm and pulled him into the main room. Gus and Agent Bell (who Shawn was displeased to realize was not actually a figment of some nightmare) were waiting for him, both with tired and impatient looks.

"No food. Only beans." Jules said, her short answers making her seem... insaner than usual. "I am not going to eat just beans for my entire stay here. No I will not!" Her forcefulness as she pushed him to the front doorway was deeply frightening. "You are going to find me some real food. I don't care if you have to catch fish with your bare hands, you do not come back without breakfast!"

"Er... actually Juliet—" Bell cut himself off as she snapped her head around to glare at him. Clearing his throat nervously, he tried again. "No one person can leave this house without an escort. Safe house rules."

"Fine. You go with him." Jules demanded. Bell cast a glance at Shawn, then back to Juliet before answering.

"I think Gus would be just fine. My job is to protect you. Not Shawn."

"Well thanks for that buddy," Shawn said, the falsehood in their 'camaraderie' obvious, "I feel real safe now."

Damn Bell. This guy was so... devious. Bell and Jules would be all alone for however long it took to buy everything except beans. For all they'd know, Dave and Jules could be having sex on a mountain of bean cans while they go out, probably buying the next surface junk for them to have sex on! But Juliet would totally notice if he said he didn't want to go with Gus, so he was stuck once again. Damn platonic relationships!

"What should we pick up?" Shawn managed to ask without grinding his teeth. Was that triumph in Bell's smirk?

"Meat, fruits, vegetables, pancakes, I don't care!" Jules said, once again proving how scary she could be on the job. "I just want to be able to eat!" She grabbed the arm of an unsuspecting Gus, and pushed them both out the door. "Now get me food!" She yelled before slamming the door in their faces. The two friends stood for a moment, staring at the closed door trying to recover from their shock. After a minute, Gus broke the stunned silence.

"Sometimes I don't know what you saw in her. Let's get going, this is gonna take a while." Shawn ignored the first part completely, instead jogging ahead to beat Gus to the drivers side. He never really got to drive much. Well, except when he had to drug Gus to go to Mexico...

"Ha! I'm driving for once! Wait... where are the keys?" Gus rolled his eyes as he slid into the seat of the ancient dusty sedan.

"They're in the ignition Shawn."

"Really?" He asked, completely genuine in his surprise. "Because that's the last place I'd look."

"You're an idiot Shawn."

Cue fake sniff. "You— you can be so hurtful sometimes, Gus! Why!"

"Just get in the damn car."

"Now now," Shawn chided as he plopped onto the uncomfortable seat and turned the key. "Let's try to be civil. Inside voices. Deep breath in... deep breath out."

"Drive."

"Yes sir, Mr. Guster sir!"

~*~

There was total silence.

"OK. I'm calm." Juliet said to the only other occupant in the room. Dave nodded mutely (a wise choice more men should consider before responding). She stepped over and dropped onto the sofa. Looking up at the scared F.B.I. agent, she decided it'd be best to explain. "I get testy when I don't eat."

"Ah." He said uncertainly. Bell looked to be having a mental argument, before he finally sat down next to her. Clearing his throat, Dave tried to make conversation. "So what's it like working in Santa Barbara?"

"Oh it's wonderful." She said, easily docile at the new turn in the conversation. "I have an excellent partner, a little rough around the edges but he's finally beginning to listen to me as a detective. I am so, _SO_ incredibly happy about that! And as he's Head Detective we tackle some of the most important cases. It's amazing to be able to go home knowing what I've done is worthwhile. But you'd know all about that of course." Juliet said, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. He smiled that dazzling smile that accentuated his dimples. God Dave may not be rock star hot but he had a perfect smile.

"It's a great feeling." Oh there were so many things she wanted to—

"Yeah..." She agreed, feeling the trace of a blush at the path her thoughts were taking. "Of course it's mostly because of Shawn." He frowned and the last of her impure feelings fled. Shawn Spencer was like a cold shower it seemed.

"Spencer?"

"Well yeah," Juliet said, trying to explain her blurted thought. "He's a psychic, pretty much solves all of the high profile cases. Makes our jobs easier, anyway."

"Really, psychic?" He repeated, obviously skeptical.

"I know, it sounds silly, if he hadn't told me my life story on more than one occasion I wouldn't believe it myself. But he keeps on going, case after case, never missing one." Had she not been defending Shawn's profession she might have noticed the note of pride lying beneath the surface of her words. Bell however, did.

"Are you—er, were you two...?" Her eyebrows rose in surprise without her knowledge.

"What? Me and Shawn? No! Never."

"You sure?" He asked, one brow quirked in question.

"Well... alright I asked him out once, but it didn't work out. He has a serious girlfriend who's just lovely. We're completely platonic. Absolutely." Bell's fantastic smile returned, not diminished in the least by her answer.

"Good." Juliet blinked once and tilted her head.

"Why's that good?" He shrugged and looked at the space on the cushion between them.

"Nothing really. Just is." Bell looked back up to gauge her reaction.

Her blissful smile rivaled his pleased look.

~*~

"Dude, do you think Jules would want trout on a stick?" Shawn asked his friend as he sifted through the small store's collection.

"Half this food is fish!" Gus remarked, sounding grossed-out and incredulous all at once. "There has to be a better corner store, no town could subsist on shellfish and bass."

"You'd be surprised. I once went a week on just hot sauce packets." Shawn said proudly. Gus didn't share his opinion of the matter, judging by the look he shot him.

"That explains a lot, Shawn."

"If you mean I'm too sexy for my shirt due to the massive amounts of hotness I've ingested you're dead wrong. My experiment proved my attractiveness diminished once I'd eaten 31 packets in front of my date. This is definitely all me."

"Shawn, seek help."

"Eh, your mother mates out of season." He shot back. Gus rolled his eyes at the lame movie reference. Putting down their respective fish related foodstuffs and happily left the strange store. Walking down the dirty sidewalks, the two admired the quant mini-town they were visiting. Most of the people were there for the good fishing spots, but they'd managed to make the place look fairly decent. If they could only find food.

"Here we go." Gus sighed as they reached a more promising shop. The general store looked to be fully stocked with the basic necessities they would need. Gus strode inside quickly, intent on soothing the Jules-beast that had viciously attacked them earlier. Shawn was more leisurely, and thanks to that it gave him time to notice something very disturbing. Or rather someone.

Shawn froze as he recognized Oscar King walking down the tiny street. Walking in his direction. Facing him plain as day. A small bulge in his right pocket about the size of a .45. No doubt about it.

He'd found them.


	8. Producing Petty Plans

**We Were Hoping for More **_**Porky's**_** than **_**Shoot to Kill**_**. Sorry!**

_Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!_ Shawn thought frantically for a moment before regaining motor skills. He managed to finish his casual entrance into the general store without so much as a hiccup before racing to Gus' side. One look at his ghostly pale best friend and Gus instantly turned to pay full attention to him. It took a moment for Shawn to slow his heavy breathing. His heart had apparently decided he needed twice his normal amount of oxygen.

"King," He gasped out feeling as if he was literally choking on words. "Outside!"

"Wait, what?" Gus asked incredulously dropping the bag of newly purchased food. "How can he be outside?"

"I don't know!" Shawn bit out. "But we've gotta go! NOW!" Looking around the shop, ignoring the strange looks the owner was giving them, he soon spotted a back exit. Grabbing his best friend by the arm, who had the good sense to pick up their food first, they sprinted through the door. Getting their bearings in the alley they now stood, Shawn lead them to where the car was waiting. They jumped in, and Shawn turned the key. The ancient monstrosity sputtered, then roared to life.

"Atta girl." Shawn praised.

"You've only known her a few hours, how can you have bonded so quickly?"

"You have seen me at a bar, right Gus?" On that perfect note, he drove at a steady reasonable pace out onto the street. Gus shot him a glance.

"Why aren't we speeding out of here?"

"Because that would be totally noticeable. We gots ta play it coo', foo'!" Gus lifted his eyes to the heavens and prayed they made it back alive. And sane.

~*~

As Juliet opened the door to quiet the incessant knocking, she was surprised when Gus handed her a bag full of groceries but neither made a move to step inside. And the serious looks on both their faces.

"Jules, where's Bell?" Shawn asked urgently. She blinked and set the heavy bag off to the side of the door.

"In his room talking on his cell. Carlton just faxed his first report. I can get him if you—"

"No!" He interrupted in a quick and perfect whisper-yell (the two friends were naturals with the complexities of such communication). Shawn was visibly calming himself so as to speak again. "Would you join us outside for a bit. We need to talk, without Bell finding out."

Juliet was already closing the door behind them as she asked "Find out about what?" Shawn lead the group down their stretch of beach before speaking.

"Oscar King is close." That stopped her in her tracks.

"What? How do you know? Did you have a vision?" Shawn stopped as well, as did Gus. They turned around to face her.

"Didn't need one, I literally saw him walking down the street in town." Shawn answered off-handedly. Juliet shifted her gaze to the ocean's crashing waves.

"Are you sure?" Out of the corner of her eye she could see him nod and brush his nose with his hand. "What's he doing here?" She mused out loud, her puzzled expression to the shimmering water.

"Jules," It was Gus' use of the nickname that made her turn back to them. They were both wearing matching expressions of mingled concern and disbelief. "There's no way this is coincidence." Gus was talking to her as if she was slow. It irritated her. But it wasn't right!

"Yeah? And?" She demanded. Shawn took two quick steps and moved both hands to hold her face. For a second Juliet thought he was going to kiss her. Before she could drop her jaw in surprise he was speaking.

"He's here for _you_, Jules." It was the way he said the words, calm, clear, and soothing, that finally made the meaning sink in. She shook her head, dislodging his hands in the process. Her head was in such a spin, she completely missed the small spark of disappointment in his eyes.

"No." Juliet murmured trying to work through the problem in her head.

"Yes," Shawn insisted, sticking his hands in his pockets and moving to stand by Gus once more. "It makes sense."

"It makes no sense!" She said forcefully. It was her turn to rein herself in. "How could he know we're here? Only Agents Sanders, Bell, the Chief, Carlton, and us three know where we're staying. Everyone in the area thinks people aren't allowed here because it's filled with deadly poisonous jellyfish. No one accidently stumbles across the safe house _ever_! There's no way he could have found us, none!" Shawn was watching her with a somber expression.

"Well he's in town, so obviously he has." He replied steadily. There was a moment of silence.

"We've gotta tell Dave." Juliet said, turning around to walk back to the house. She was forced to a stop by someone grabbing her forearm.

"Jules we have no idea how King found us. We can trust no one. We need a plan." Shawn said as he released her.

"You never have a plan." Gus commented.

"Can you try not to undermine the whole dangerous dramatic thing I've got going on." He hissed to his friend, the normal Shawn returning in a flash. "I was totally awesome there for a while."

"Too much Fox Mulder, not enough thinking." Juliet remarked, drawing the boys back to the issue at hand.

"We have to find out how he found us," Shawn began, instantly back on point, "He could have a partner. But Bell isn't gonna let us go after him if we tell him about King. He can't find out. To do this we're gonna need some major reconnaissance...ness." Overlooking his ridiculous fumble, Gus added to the plan. Or rather pointed out their conspicuous lack of a plan.

"We have no way of knowing how long he'll be in the area, or if he knows about the safe house. We don't even know how to find him."

"Why so serious, Guster?" Shawn replied deftly. "You know we have a knack for finding trouble. Finding a crazy murderer with a gun who's trying to kill us will be easy. We always do!"

"Yeah, and I always save your butts!" Juliet interjected. "So how do we get out of here without Dave?" She was met, however, with silence. "What?"

"Jules there's no way you're coming with us." Shawn told her, as if it were obvious. Juliet didn't agree.

"So what, you decided to rush back here, say the man who's out to get me is in town, order me not to tell the F.B.I. Agent assigned to protect us, start making your plans to escape in front of me, then leave me behind while you go off into almost certain danger?" She asked skeptically. The two men took a moment to look at each other in disbelief.

"Y'know, when she says it like that it really doesn't make a lot of sense." Gus said to him.

"None at all, really." Shawn agreed.

"It's not happening." Juliet told them definitively.

"We should have predicted that." Gus shrugged.

"She's like some wild lioness protecting her cubs." Shawn replied with a defeated sigh.

~*~

When Juliet opened the front door for them, Shawn hadn't even stepped over the threshold before he could hear Bell berating them.

"Where have you been? I come downstairs and my star witness is missing! What am I supposed to think?" Upon seeing Shawn standing in the doorway, a reserved Gus hiding somewhat behind him, Bell rounded on them. "I suppose it's your fault I had to put away the groceries lying by the door? What was could be so urgent you had to drop your things and drag Juliet out of the house?" Jules turned to Shawn, silently urging him to lie as he so often did. Well, he wouldn't be a gentleman if he refused her.

"Dude, I dunno if you know this, but there was an albatross outside! We wanted to see if Jules would help us try to catch it. Gus has always wanted a pet albatross. We've just never gotten close enough to slip the rope around their necks. We thought Jules could help, like how maidens could get unicorns to—"

"I know, it was a very stupid reason, we'll follow the rules from now on." Juliet cut across him. Shawn looked properly scandalized.

"Stupid? Jules, it was an albatross!" He replied, as if that was explanation enough. Thankfully, it seemed Bell thought albatross wrangling a completely Shawn-like thing to do.

"Don't let it happen again, Spencer." He warned, with a less threatening, more scolding finger point. Shawn rolled his eyes, stuffing his hands once more into his pockets and sending Gus a disgruntled glare.

"Yeah, yeah, never get involved in a land war in Asia, I got it." Bell's eyes narrowed at the obvious disregard for procedure, that is until Jules linked their arms. Then the smug bastard smiled down at her, and she beamed up at him, and everyone was smiling at each other, and it made Shawn sick!

"So, what did Lassie say, Agent Bell-ze-bub?" He interrupted with impatience. Seeming to be unpleasantly made aware of Shawn and Gus' presence, he answered them grudgingly.

"The first bingo player was a dud. Apparently Bev is too mentally incompetent to be involved in Marcos' murder." Juliet laughed, eliciting another dimpled grin, for no apparent reason.

"Well, it's only 1 o'clock," Jules said with enthusiasm. "And Shawn was telling me all about this cute little shop in town. Do you think we could go there today?" Hmm... Jules may not a fantastic liar, but she had other very successful methods of getting what she wanted. That way she was biting her lower lip and fluttering her eyelashes was doing what his best lie would never accomplish. Bell was crumbling before their very eyes.

"It'd be best if we try not to leave the..." It was over before the man had a chance to fight it. Jules looked down as if terribly upset but trying not to let it show just how much of a disappointment Dave was. He sighed in resignation. "I suppose a quick trip wont hurt." As Juliet pulled the unsuspecting Bell after her, Shawn couldn't help but hope the agent was right. If only this one time.


	9. Suspect Smile Snog

**We Were Hoping for More **_**Porky's**_** than **_**Shoot to Kill**_**. Sorry!**

~*~Earlier that morning~*~

The bell above the door gave a tiny trill. The owner, a thin and lanky man wearing large wire framed glasses, looked up at the only other occupants of the little store.

"Frank Stebbins?" Carlton addressed him. The middle aged man nodded hesitantly. He flashed his badge, as Sanders did with his F.B.I. ID card. "Head Detective Lassiter of the SBPD, and my associate Agent Sanders." Frank, instantly realizing they weren't there to purchase sheet music, stepped over to the investigators.

"You're here about Mr. Bellatrize's death? I expected you here yesterday." He spoke with a waver, as if constantly afraid of the world. Sanders instantly took the lead.

"I'm afraid that's my fault. My superiors asked us to run a few background checks on Mr. Bellatrize's known associates. Well, you can imagine once we found yours, it took us a while to parse through it all." Whatever color Frank had had drained out upon hearing the agent's forceful tone.

"Th-those w-were a lo-long time ago." The man stuttered. Carlton entered the interrogation, backing him up without denying Sanders the pleasure.

"Petty thefts—"

"Pick pocketing!" Frank defended (none too well).

"—Domestic violence—"

"She was sleeping with my sister!"

"—and disturbing the peace." Lassiter smirked at the surprising silence. "What, nothing to help your case with that one, Stebbins?"

"I didn't start that fight." He protested, turning from the men to slump into the chair behind the counter. The investigators followed, leaning over the countertop to impose over the anxious figure now wringing his hands and dabbing at his temples. "Look, I was just a teenager then, I've changed. Besides, I have an alibi for that night."

"An alibi don't mean squat, we know who killed Marcos." Sanders countered. Frank looked up incredulously.

"Then why are you—"

"He had a key." Lassiter informed him, steady and straight to the point. "And the only people with keys to that store are you, Howie, and 'Bev'. We've already ruled the latter out, and right now you are looking very promising mister." The trapped looking stick figure shook his head, more to himself than in denial.

"You've got it all wrong, I had nothing to do with Marcos' death. He was my friend. He sold me most of my wind instruments. Why would I have him killed?"

"I've seen men killed for less than sheet music." Sanders said curtly. Frank let out a shaky laugh.

"Please, you have to believe me. I'm innocent."

"Oh! Oh, really!" Carlton exclaimed in mock relief. "You hear that Agent Sanders, we've got the wrong guy! Let's go buy him some ice cream to make up for our mistake." Turning back to the man, who was now trembling like a leaf, he spoke coldly. "Don't leave town, we'll be seeing you real soon." With that, they left Frank to break down in the silence of his deserted music shop...

~*~

"Smile!" The camera flashed at the pair. Shawn had an arm draped around Juliet's shoulders, hugging her into his side slightly. Gus was holding Shawn's digital camera (who knows how they picked it up) and was enacting phase one of their cunning surveillance plan.

Bell was currently next to the fishing shop on his cell phone. The last Juliet had heard, Agent Sanders had a suspect in mind. Bell would be getting the details once they got back to the safe house, but he was in discussion with his partner about the suspect, probably bouncing ideas off each other. The three had taken the opportunity to seek out King. Luckily (or not considering your perspective) Oscar King was across the street. Eating a sandwich on a stoop.

This was just where the three wanted him. Phase one involved taking covert pictures using the digital camera. This way they could zoom in on him latter to look for any clues. But, the true brilliance of this plan was that, by having Shawn and Juliet pose together it completely concealed their true intentions.

However, Juliet thought Shawn might have an ulterior motive. The fact that idea happened to coincide with him wrapping his arms around her waist... had frankly everything to do with it! She shot him a warning look from the corner of her eye, but he showed no signs of noticing. Nor did he acknowledge the disapproving frown Gus was suddenly wearing. But no one could say a thing other than "smile", because to do so would immediately drawn attention. So Juliet pasted a sickly sweet smile on her face and decided to spike his soda with fish oil when she got the chance.

"He's getting up," Gus murmured to them, wearing an identical fake smile to Juliet's. "Oh, just throwing out his trash." He said with a short sigh.

"Great surveillance there buddy," Shawn teased after an abnormally long sniff. Maybe he was smelling her hair?

"Wait! He's walking to a pay phone."

"We have to hear that phone call," Shawn's muffled voice came from behind her. "Jules, stay with Bell, keep your face hidden. We'll try and get closer." Feeling that hint of adrenaline seeping into her system, she nodded slightly.

"Be careful."

~*~

Being so close to Jules was incredibly distracting. Why did her hair have to smell so good? He had always made excuses to touch her, leaning in to read a computer screen despite his perfect vision, hands meeting over a spread of photographs, etcetera. Who cares if he would get a stern talking to from Gus if he got another whiff of that lilac and peaches scent? But of course King would interfere with that secret agenda.

Reluctantly pulling his arms free from her, Shawn watched for a moment as she instantly turned to the bait and tackle shop so her profile wouldn't be seen. Once Jules had met up with Bell, who was now apparently catching her up on the new suspect with a smile, Gus lead him down in the other direction. They made it to the corner before crossing to King's side.

"You're pushing it." Ah, Shawn had forgotten to brace himself for the whispered argument. He focused instead on the store behind the pay phone. A window was open that they should be able to hear him through.

"Have you made it your personal mission to police our relationship?" He asked carelessly, pointing to the store as he did so. Gus nodded, though in response to what Shawn wasn't sure.

"You two don't have a relationship." He reminded him. They walked, to all lookers on aimlessly, up the street. "Did you think about Abigail once since you called?"

"Well she's hardly the one in danger at the moment, is she." Shawn countered, ducking inside the deserted magazine store. The friends dropped to the floor, creeping along silently 'til they reached the open window. The man's voice drifted to them. He sounded nervous.

"Are you sure she's even here?" King asked into the receiver. "I've checked every hotel in town and the girl's not here." He paused, and they could only imagine what the partner was saying. "Look, I'm sorry boss," Shawn's eyebrows rose and he dared a look at Gus who looked equally shocked. "I'm just antsy is all. I'll keep looking." Another pause. "No, I haven't recognized anybody at all. Maybe they've left already." This time the pair could hear a garbled murmur coming through the phone. Whoever King's 'boss' was they had to be yelling. "Yes sir... Yes sir. I swear. I'll find her." With that, they heard the click and rattle as he hung up the pay phone.

Sitting utterly still, Shawn could hear the shuffling as King walked away from them. Cautiously, he shifted so he could now look out the window. With horror, he remembered just who was in that direction.

"Jules..." Gus raised himself to watch once he heard Shawn's fear-filled whisper. Shawn could feel his sharp indrawn breath.

But then again, the boys should have remembered how excellent a detective Juliet O'Hara was. The next thing they knew, she had surprised them all with a move that was definitely not taught by the academy. Maybe she had seen the movement out of the corner of her eye. Maybe it was feminine intuition. Of course the idea that hurt Shawn the most: maybe her next action was completely unrelated.

All at once Jules had pushed Bell against the brick wall, pining him with her body along his. Shawn watched the unmistakeable press of lips against lips. Hands. Her fingers had worked themselves into his hair, holding him in place with feverish intensity. Bells arms snaked around her to her back, bringing Jules impossibly closer. Who knows how long they remained locked together in the kiss. The seconds stretched to impossible lengths. The two must have grown gills recently.

Shawn's insides had mysteriously vanished. He was pretty sure his expression was either murderous or entirely blank.

Someone whistled from a distance.

King walked past the entwined couple with merely the casual glance of a voyeur.

Wordlessly Gus snapped a digital photo.

Shawn would have to remember to delete that one.


	10. Angst Angst Angst

**We Were Hoping for More **_**Porky's**_** than **_**Shoot to Kill**_**. Sorry!**

"Where is he?" Gus sighed a little at the more-than-a-question-but-less-than-a-demand. It was his own fault. Juliet really wasn't sure what he had expected of her.

First off, she had kissed Dave. And not some little 'kiss at the door' sort of thing. It was practically exhibitionist wall sex. And, because it seems the universe has a twisted sense of humor, Shawn Spencer had witnessed it.

Second, and stranger still, he hadn't said a word. Not a one that she knew of. Not since Gus had politely interrupted to inform them that Shawn was waiting in the car. Waiting was completely inaccurate; the man was sulking.

Thirdly, Bell had found out what they'd been planning, and went ballistic. He had confiscated the car keys and hauled their asses back to the safe house. For what had to be the dozenth time since they arrived, the agent was on his cell with his partner. They were trading information, speculating, making tactical plans on how best to corner King, the usual. But then she wouldn't know anything about that. No, that was due to item four on her 'fucked up facts list'.

Gus, in the manner you would expect doctors to use with volatile mental patients nearby, had filled in the _actual_ investigators on what he and his partner overheard, more or less. He didn't have the details nor the succinctness that she was used to. When she tried to prod further into his story, Dave had snapped at her, saying there was no way in hell she would pursue the investigation further. Basically 'go play with your dolls while the big boys clean up'.

Juliet was sure he was mad at her. She'd deliberately played with his emotions out there. From the reflection in the nearby window she could see King approaching from behind, and there'd been a modicum of panic in her next actions. High School had taught her that when a couple was heatedly engaged, the crowd, probably out of some bizarre compensation for their lack of self-consiousness, leaves the two alone for the most part. She probably could have thought of a better plan than throwing herself at him, but there you have it. Dave hadn't been exactly unwilling, surprised, definitely, but the way his hands had acted showed he wasn't that opposed. Finding out she only did it to avoid detection (though only was such a strong word) could not have felt good.

She had followed Bell to his room to try to convince him to let her back in the loop, but once he had nastily replied that he would when she did, Juliet had decided to give him some space. The door slamming in her face had nothing to do with that decision. She'd washed her face in the bathroom, merely because her pores could do with clearing and not because tears had trickled down her cheeks as she was hit with a sudden wave of depression. When Juliet came back downstairs, it was to find Shawn mysteriously vanished. Leading her to her original question.

"Where, Gus?" She repeated, a worn down quality to her usually perky voice. He looked uncomfortable and nervous, which did not make the next few minutes promising.

"He said he was going out to get some air." Gus replied. It seemed he did not know who to be more afraid of, the angry detective or a pissed off Shawn. She threw her arms up in exasperation.

"So the man _can_ talk! Alert the media!" She said, making her way to the door. Gus' arm forced her to a stop. Unlike Shawn's actions hours before, his fingers didn't linger on her skin. Juliet abruptly forgot how to swallow.

"Jules," The familiar nickname from the unfamiliar voice didn't help her composure. "You didn't see his face. It was frightening. I thought he was gonna hose you guys off with a fire extinguisher." Logic-ing her feelings into submission, Juliet finally turned to face him.

"You're exaggerating. I'm sure it wasn't that bad. The kiss was practically nothing anyway." With a tactful silence, Gus held up Shawn's digital camera, displaying the frantic action frozen in time. Juliet couldn't help wincing. Bell's hand was gripping her ass mid-motion while her nails dug into his cheeks. It wasn't pretty.

"It was bad. I'd have taken a picture of his expression, but he glared me into submission." Gus visibly shuddered. He looked to be refocusing himself before continuing again. "You can't say that was the best thing for him to see." She rolled her eyes, relying on her old defense mechanisms (such as denial) to help maintain her peace of mind during this soap-opera-esque time.

"Ok, so we made out, but it was necessary. Why does this give him the right to mope around like he lost his favorite toy? In fact, why is it every man in this house is acting bitchy while I have to be the sane one?" Gus was not phased by her words.

"Look Juliet, Shawn and I are men," Juliet couldn't help the song from _Robin Hood: Men in Tights_ replaying in her head. "So the whole sharing emotions thing isn't really our style. And I still don't really know all that went on with you two. But I have to warn you. Don't... Try... Make sure..." He paused, searching for a manly way to forbid her from hurting his best friend. When he failed, Gus settled for a stern finger wag and a nod of his head. With the tiniest smile at how adorable his protective streak was, Juliet walked out the front door, leaving Gus alone to wonder when their lives had become so complicated.

~*~

The first time, he heard the gentle crunch of footsteps compacting the sand, and Shawn tried his hardest to be wrong. The second time, when the salty tang of the pacific became mingled with lilacs and peaches, he told himself it was his imagination conspiring against him. The third and most blatant disillusionment was when she spoke.

"You're getting wet." Her words were gentle, but somehow unreadable. It reminded him of when his mother would try to persuade him with reverse psychology, before he had realized the scheme of course. But this time Shawn would not give in.

"I don't care." Yes, it sounded childish and petulant, but it was the truth. Shawn was sitting cross-legged in the dark sand, being gradually soaked with the incoming tide. The sun had set right as they'd arrived at the safe house, and now the sky was a deepening navy blue. He sat with his chin resting on his fist, trying not to think. Juliet's presence would not help matters.

"Do you mind if I sit next to you?" Oh he _so_ did mind! But somehow he found his head jerking back and forth in mechanical assent. Jules sat, crossing her legs in the moist sand. They stuck to her nice beige pants but she didn't seem to mind. She took off her sandals, and Shawn couldn't help how his eyes drifted to watch her motions. How does she make such a simple act sexy? She wasn't even trying! Unbidden came the memories of earlier. He suddenly lost interest in observing her feet.

"So King has a partner." Jules said, obviously trying to defuse the tension early.

"Boss." He corrected half-heartedly. Shawn was a little proud at how neutral he sounded. She nodded.

"Boss. We all thought he was alone, that he had worked his way to the top of their gang. This changes things." Juliet paused, most likely considering whether to continue with the pointless recap or move on to more serious matters. Apparently she really didn't want to discuss it. "Carlton says they have a prime suspect. He has a record, and could easily have met King somehow if they were in the same circles. What do you think, Shawn?"

"Has he talked to everyone?" No wonder he could lie so well. Shawn was a natural at hiding his emotions. She looked relieved that he hadn't pressed her.

"Not Howie yet. I have a feeling he doesn't want to upset the guy who feeds half the station." Her joke was met with more silence. Shawn heard a stifled sigh. It was time.

"Shouldn't you be up in _Dave_'s room? You know, to get another update?" He could see Jules' jaw clench, and felt a grim satisfaction.

"He is being moody and unresponsive," She glared at him. "Like several other people in this house."

"Not in the house. I'm on the beach." He pointed out, but his words sounded hollow.

"Yes, great improvement." Jules replied as another wave reached them. She didn't seem to mind the water, instead content to watch how the tide pulled the sand from under her bare feet. After a long minute of silence she spoke as if resigned to her fate. "Get it all out then."

"I have nothing to say." She let out a very unladylike snort.

"Yeah right. I make out with the man you've sniping at this entire time and you have nothing to say? You've been brooding ever since. Just tell me why." Irrational anger and betrayal flared once more, stronger than ever. He shot to his feet, clearly startling Jules, her eyes wide as she watched him begin to pace.

"What would you like me to say Jules?" He paused in his furious march to give her a good view of his sardonic smile. "That I give you my blessing?"

"No—"

"That I don't care what you do or who you're with?"

"No, Shawn, listen—!"

"That it hurts?" He saw her mouth clamp shut. She probably hadn't expected him to say it. Well it was her own fault he felt this way and (platonic be damned) Shawn was gonna make her hear it. He turned to continue pacing, certain that he could never go on if he was looking at her. "That I think there's a volcano erupting behind my eyes every time I think of it? That I want to pound his face in for ever coming near you? That it should have been me?"

He stopped. He had just crossed the line. Revealed too much. Jules was taking deep breaths when he finally faced her again. Shawn wasn't sure if that meant she was incredibly angry or close to tears. Her expression was blank and when she spoke her voice was low and just a little unsteady.

"Don't do this Shawn." Somehow that one single sentence was enough to deflate him. All of a sudden Shawn felt very tired. He walked over to his original spot by the water. He flopped uselessly to the ground next to her. Neither one looked at the other for the longest time.

"I'm..."

"Yeah." Jules cut off his apology, propping one leg up to rest her cheek on. There was another stretch of silence, this one less tense for some reason.

"I've seen you kiss Abigail," She said finally, sounding so drained Shawn couldn't make out any emotion in her pronouncement. "Did you want me to be celibate without you?" Some part of him couldn't force the word 'no' out his lips. Jules had to be a mind reader because she continued, and this time there was that hint of accusation. "Shawn, we've never even gone on a real date. You have a girlfriend, one I like too. There's nothing stopping me from living my life." A pause. "Is there?" Her last two words were desperate for his answer.

Shawn let out a puff of air, falling to lie on his back in the sand. The tide made it just high enough to reach his hair, but not his face. Staring up at the now inky black sky, he knew she was right. But the revelation didn't stop that empty feeling in his stomach. The terrible truth, that had always been true really, was that he wanted to have a claim on her. But how could he say that now?

"No," Shawn replied, feeling as if it was the biggest lie he had ever told, "There's nothing stopping you." A tight smile crossed her face, and to his surprise she joined him in lying on the sand. Still facing the sky, Shawn felt Jules take his hand. The subtle contact, so innocent, sent goosebumps up his arm. It wasn't near the real things he wanted from her. But at this point, Shawn would take what he could get.


	11. Dating Daring Dark

**We Were Hoping for More **_**Porky's**_** than **_**Shoot to Kill**_**. Sorry!**

The walk back to the safe house was more comfortable than Juliet had expected it to be. She could tell Shawn was still a little jealous, but it would pass. He'd given her permission, sort of, to keep going on with her life. Why he'd reacted so strongly was still unclear to her though. Maybe he and Abigail were having problems. Or rather their problems were more serious than he'd let on. Her stomach did a little flip, and her eyes slid to contemplate Shawn against her will. It would explain how emotional he'd been these last few days. Maybe taking his hand had been a bad idea.

"See anything you like?" It was the sudden movement of his smirking lips that startled her, rather than the pleasant flirtatious comment that accompanied them. Shawn wasn't even looking at her! But then she supposed he wouldn't need to, being the impossible psychic he was. Juliet turned her head to focus once more on the soon approaching house.

"No." She denied firmly, but still with that air of teasing. "Just thinking."

"Yeah, me too actually." He replied, just as vaguely. Though Shawn followed that up with a question of his own. "What is it with you and the F.B.I.?"

"Hey!" Jules warned him harshly. "Watch it. We may be square for now but I can take it right back!" Take what right back, she had no idea. But Shawn looked suitably chastised and wary, so with head held proudly Juliet firmly pushed the door open. They were met with identical prying looks from Gus and Bell. With a fake smile she asked "So what are the plans?" Quickly stepping into agent mode, Bell took the stand.

"The task force will descend on the area in the morning, when King will have a harder time hiding. Meanwhile they've blocked off all the exits so he can't escape. We'll move you as soon as he's in custody until we can find his partner."

"Boss." Juliet and Shawn corrected him as one. The man blinked before clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Yes, right. Well, we have food now, how about some dinner? We can have ravioli from a can, soup from a can, or... beans from a can." The entire room grimaced at the last option.

"I'm fine with ravioli," Jules piped up, "It's one of the few meals I can actually make. I pretty much survive on take out and microwavable 'food'." She finished with air quotes, forming a slightly reluctant smile on Bell's face. He was much less mad at her now, she noticed. The agent turned abruptly, as if cutting himself mid-thought she speculated slyly, to the oddly subdued friends. It was possible they had been having a silent argument, but what on earth could they be fighting over?

"What about you Mr. Spencer? Ravioli good?"

"No thanks man, Gus and I are beat." Shawn announced, to the apparent displeasure of his aforementioned best friend. "You two have fun, we'll just grab something and take it easy in my room." Juliet's nose scrunched up in suspicion. Shawn Spencer letting her have dinner alone with the handsome man he caught her making out with earlier? He might have said he was OK with it but this was taking a full 180! But she had no idea what he could be up to, so she supposed it was better to trust him.

"Alright, but Gus, don't forget you have the first watch." He sent Shawn one last resentful look before replying.

"Will do!"

~*~

"I can't believe you're making me do this."

"Really Gus? I thought you'd be used to me forcing you to sneak out by now. We did it enough in high school."

"And middle school... and elementary school!"

"So where'd this doubt come from again?"

"I just don't know anymore Shawn. I just don't know."

If it isn't obvious enough, Gus had been coerced into abandoning his sentry post by a certain quirky pseudo-psychic. The two friends were sitting in the clunker, on the dark road back to town.

"Remind me again why we can't turn on the headlights? Are you trying to get us killed, or do you just get your kicks making me shriek like a girl?" Gus asked, clutching the door handle for dear life as the car rumbled over another bump. Shawn looked completely at ease, the only concession to the treacherous conditions the fact he was _actually_ driving within the speed limit.

"Dude, the whole point of this secret mission is to catch King _stealthily_ so we don't scare off his boss. If we used the lights we might as well let the F.B.I. take care of him!" He finished with a scoff.

"Shawn, you just don't want Agent Bell to get all the credit. Admit it! You are so jealous!" Shawn faced his friend, blatantly ignoring the road ahead, to show his mock outrage.

"Gus, buddy, I'm appalled that you think I'd sacrifice our safety to impress Jules! Why, I'm—I'm just—"

"Turn!" Shawn jerked the wheel to the left to make the sharp turn into the town. Making it just in time, although Gus still screamed like a girl nonetheless, the two pulled to a stop right on the outskirts of civilization. The warehouse looked deserted, and smelled like rotten fish. It had to be an old fish processing or canning plant. They stepped out of the car cautiously, Gus breathing heavily all the way, and the investigators crept toward the doorway.

"What makes you so sure he's staying here?" He asked Shawn in a whisper.

"Because, logically it makes sense. Being the super-sleuth I am, I deduced he would have to stay somewhere isolated so his target wouldn't startle him, somewhere without witnesses, somewhere with easy access, and this was the best place!" Gus glared at him until Shawn relented. "OK, he dropped a card with the address by the pay phone." Gus grinned in triumph. His friend must love poking holes in Shawn's fantastic stories. No wonder he stuck around.

They reached the rusted metal door, and Shawn pursed his lips when he realized it would make an extremely loud noise when they tried to open it. Looking around the empty lot for another way in, he motioned to his partner to go around back. With a clearly angry look, Gus nodded, and started to make his way silently to the other end of the warehouse.

Shawn sneaked around the other way, trying to find some less compromising entrance. He froze as he heard rustling coming from a pile of black garbage bags. He sighed once a tabby cat shot out from the trash, scurrying away with a fish carcass in his mouth. Shawn drew closer to the pile, noticing a ridge behind the massive mound. Gingerly shifting the bags, he revealed a concealed door, this one looking fairly well-used. Pulling it open, he carefully slipped through. Shawn nearly walked straight into a standing shelf, the entire interior cluttered with boxes and mechanical pieces of old disused equiptment. The warehouse was dark, with only thin shafts of light from the boarded up windows penetrating the blackness. Those, and the sliver from a door directly opposite him.

"Gus." He whispered to the quiet. No answer. Shawn tried again, more plaintively this time. "Gus! Dude, answer me!" He tiptoed closer, deftly avoiding the junk surrounding him with his keen senses. Once he had nearly reached the wall, Shawn could only register a click of a switch before being blinded by the overhead lights bursting to life. Blinking rapidly, the scene he found made his heart stutter.

"Don't move." Oscar King ordered, .45 pressed against the temple of Gus' unconscious body. A seeping gash painting the dusty floor a deep sickening red beneath his very sensitive head.

Shawn Spencer felt bone chilling fear.


	12. Buzz Brass Brains

**We Were Hoping for More **_**Porky's**_** than **_**Shoot to Kill**_**. Sorry!**

The buzzing woke Juliet with a start. She looked bleary eyed around her cozy peach colored temporary bedroom. Sitting up slightly, she reached around blindly, her hand finally connecting with the offending phone.

"Hullo?" Juliet spoke into the cell, blinking away the remnants of sleep. She instinctively checked the alarm clock on the cherry wood desk table. It read 12:09 AM. _Why is it all the interesting things happen in the middle of the night?_

"Jules! Good to hear your voice! What's up? Everything A-OK?"

"Shawn? Is that you?" She asked, rather pointlessly as it was obviously him. Who else _would_ call this early and could possibly sound that chipper. Before he could answer with some witty retort, Juliet continued questioning. "Why are calling me—Ugh..." She closed her eyes as realization hit. "Let me guess, you're not downstairs are you?"

"Ah... no."

"You and Gus snuck out to do something reckless and stupid?"

"That'd be a yes. Yup, definitely a yes." Juliet groaned again.

"What'd you do?" She asked, totally resigned.

"Well... to make a long story short Gus and I are staking out an abandoned fish processing plant. It reeks, but I swear it's totally worth it! We found King's hidey-hole! You've gotta get down here right away! Ooh, and bring sandwiches!" She blinked, alertness returning more rapidly now.

"Shawn, you know I can't leave the safe house again, I'm practically in lock down." He paused, small rustling indicating Shawn had covered the mouthpiece, and she could hear a very muffled conversation taking place on the other end of the line. Once he returned, she thought she heard more of an edge to his voice.

"Jules, it's like, _uber_ important! King is hiding out here, planning his escape as we speak! The F.B.I. is botching the entire job, you have to come here now!"

"Spencer, I'm telling you I can't—"

"Dude! C'mon! You know Dave sucks at this! The operation will never work! It's more like... shooting a horse with a broken leg, really..."

She was halfway finished forming her angry defense for Dave before his insisting words really penetrated. For starters, he had called Bell 'Dave', something he'd been unwilling to do this entire trip. And the way he spoke about the heavily thought out plan, making it seem lame and worthless. Not to mention how... agitated Shawn sounded. Afraid almost. Juliet formed her next words carefully. Hopefully the only effect of her probing would be sounding like an idiot.

"Is this going to be like the wind chime incident?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so. But I had no idea Mr. Mandel was allergic to Red Bull! I didn't even know that was possible! Anyways, back to the whole... murdering thing, Lassie was absolutely right, King is operating alone. It'll be easy-peasy." Jules closed her eyes in fear and disbelief. There was someone else with him. Either King or his boss (like Shawn would ever say Carlton was right about anything unless forced). She'd have to assume they could hear her side of the conversation. God she hated guessing games.

Making a decent attempt to imitate her usual stern exasperation, Juliet demanded "Can I talk to Gus, he at least tries follows directions." There was another pause while Shawn had a side conversation. Her stomach turned when she realized it was probably King or the gang leader telling him what he could say. Her knuckles were white as she waited for him to return.

"Uh... Gus is kinda busy watching the other entrance right now, can I take message?" The strain in his words conveyed the real meaning: Gus was incapacitated, either injured or...

Juliet sighed gently. "Yeah, I'll be there. How do I find you?"

...

Flipping shut her cell, she wearily flopped back onto her pillow. Shutting her eyes tight, Juliet replayed the conversation in her mind, trying to keep even the tiniest detail fresh. There had to be clues hidden in the message.

Now she knew he was trying to give her information, rather than just being the random Shawn she — everyone — knew and loved, odd phrases kept popping up. The most obvious stood out first: "...shooting a horse with a broken leg..." Shawn hated animal cruelty (probably due to those traumatic fishing trips with his dad) and would never use that phrase unless it meant something. Something along the lines of 'they're armed, so be careful'. Great.

Next there was the Mandel/Red Bull catastrophe that never happened. Red Bull? Juliet shook her head at her thoughts. No idea what that was about. Mr. Mandel? She didn't know anyone named Mandel. There was Sammy Mandell, the former lightweight champion, but Juliet somehow doubted Shawn was referring to him. There was Harvey Mandel, the rock guitarist, but that didn't ring any bells either. The only other 'Mandel' she could think was Howie...

Juliet froze. Howie Mandel, Red Bull, sandwiches... It all added up.

Flipping the phone back open, she quickly started typing a text message to her partner. By the time Lassiter figured out how to read it, she'd be halfway to the warehouse. She toyed with the idea of waking Agent Bell, until deciding to write a note. Hopefully he would find it before King and Howie were through with her. Juliet shivered. The directions he'd given her (the words 'against his will' flitted to mind) would work, she'd just have to commander a car from a neighboring beach house. Being the considerate person that she was, she would leave a note with an explanation and the phone number of the SBPD. Everything taken care of.

It was time to go.

~*~

There wasn't anything he could have done. He had no other choice. Gus' life was on the line. He shouldn't feel guilty. But he did.

At the moment, Shawn was seething, watching his two captors like a hawk. Gus was still unconscious, lying in a small pool of head blood just to the side of the doorway. King was still pointing the .45 at him, though from the distance between them as he sat backwards on a chair and the way his hand was shaking, Shawn calculated there was a possibility he could miss. If provoked enough that is, and even then the approximate margin of error would still cause massive damage to his best friend.

Funny how like his father Shawn could be in a crisis.

King's entire demeanor screamed tension and anxiety. It was obvious he was the lowest rung of the ladder of the gang. Or rather, what was left of the ladder.

Howie on the other hand...

Shawn could feel his fists clench in their cuffs, the police issue cuffs which had been threaded behind a stray pipe, keeping him effectively in place. Howie was smirking at him, his black eyes showing none of his usual (fake) warmth. He was totally at ease. As if he'd done this a thousand times. _Well_, Shawn considered, _probably not a thousand exactly, more like half a dozen of his late-partners_.

"Nice cuffs," Shawn commented nonchalantly, though he had the feeling the involuntary jumps his eyes would make to his still friend gave him away. "You wouldn't happen to know if they belonged to one of your favorite friends in blue back at the SBPD, would you?" Howie smiled even wider, his yellow teeth making an unwanted appearance.

"Possibly, it gets a bit hard to keep track after a while what belongs to whom." He replied, deep southern drawl somehow increasing the menace in his innocent response. Shawn nodded vigorously.

"Yeah, yeah, I totally get it. 4 months. You've known me, known all of us, for 4 months. You do know I'm psychic though, right?"

"Bullcrap." King muttered, though his heart clearly wasn't in it. Shawn rolled his eyes at him.

"Dude, you're like what, 35? I think you're allowed to say 'bullshit' now." King's face contorted with rage for a moment before he swung the gun around towards him. Shawn felt both a surge of panic and a crashing wave of relief now that he'd diverted the attention away from Gus. However, Howie had other plans.

"What did I tell you!" He snapped. "The man doesn't give a damn about his own life! Go for his partner and the blonde chick, that's what I told you to do now you _do it!_" The last few words were roared to Oscar, who instantly obeyed, aiming back at Gus. More panic flared through Shawn.

"No, no! I love living, I really do! Think of all the things I haven't done yet! Like slept with Lucy Felter from 5th grade! Or find out the exact date Motley Crue became classic rock! Or see my daughter win Miss Neptune! Or—"

"Shut it or you'll be paying for more than Mr. Guster's stitches." Howie intoned, nearly emotionless except for that hint of annoyance Shawn always seemed to pick up in people he questioned. Weird.

Shawn gave up on trying to change their minds about the whole Gus/aiming issue. Instead he tried going for answers.

"So, 4 months ago, you roll into town, coming from the East, loads of money from... what? Ma and Pa safety deposit boxes? Little tiny banks with maybe one security camera? Real brave, real courage there Howie." Now the deli owner/gang boss was looking seriously ticked off.

"Is this the part where I'm supposed to describe my entire plan in detail, just because, what the hell, you're gonna die anyway? Cause I've seen those movies, and that move always seems to bite them in the ass."

Shawn's eyes narrowed as he continued ruthlessly towards the true story. "Not to mention your murders. Or are they not yours exactly? You get someone else to do your dirty work? Every time. You, or should I say your subordinates, had just finished dumping some of your accomplices. Now how could you have eluded exposure for all this time? My guess? Sheer spinelessness!" There was an explosion of emotion, but not from who Shawn might have been expecting.

"Boss was always great! The best!" Oscar King raged, briefly flickering the .45 towards Shawn before stopping himself. "He's a genius! Small banks, brilliant! All Howie! No security to worry about. We musta hit fifty of 'em! Millions! Millions of bucks, all ours. And all 'cause of the boss-man here! And I'm his new second in command!" He stood with pride, admiration shinning through for this mentor. But Howie looked anything but pleased.

"Oscar, you're an idiot." Some tiny child deep inside Shawn sobbed at the poor man's expression. Howie had shattered him with four little words. To make things worse, the man kept berating him. "Couldn't you see he was playing you? Trying to make you give me up! And you too! Which you pretty much did in one big swoop!" Oscar seemed to deflate a little, and held his hands out placatingly, including the one with the gun. Shawn took the opportunity to check over Gus with his eyes. Was that a twitch of his thumb? A... brief and incredibly subtle thumbs up. But he was alive. Good thing their captors were busy arguing to notice the complete and utter joy on Shawn Spencer's face.


	13. Captors Can Console

**We Were Hoping for More **_**Porky's**_** than **_**Shoot to Kill**_**. Sorry!**

Shawn sat quietly for all of 4 minutes before interrupting their argument.

"To be fair, it was genius Howie. Oscar was right." At this point, their animosity for each other had been set aside so they could listen to Shawn. He seemed to have that effect on people. "You deceived the police for months. Hell, even I couldn't tell you were some sort of gang-boss! You got to sit back and watch your pawns get all the action, doing everything you wanted, exactly as planned. Course... you weren't perfect. A whole lot of shit hit the fan, eh man? But what I can't figure out: how did you manage all that money? You guys couldn't have kept all that cash lying around, you'd be found out in a minute. How'd you do it, Howie?" He let out a breath, resigned to tell the story.

"Antiques." Shawn raised his eyebrows. That was a new one. "We poured our money into shady but rare antique items. This way we could split the cut evenly and be able to carry them across borders and people would just think we had weird tastes in furnishing. It was brilliant. Until I sent a rookie to kill Cammo, my _late_ right hand man. Of course the idiot forgot to take his share of the loot. It was a Ming vase, 1.4 million dollars!" He rubbed a hand over his redding face to calm himself. "Obviously I had him deposed after that."

"Yeah, of course." Shawn snarked tugging at his cuffs but the pipe held firm.

"Before we could get it back his landlord had sold all his stuff at a garage sale. We questioned him," Shawn had a really bad idea what that entailed, "And he said an antique collector had taken the vase, someone he'd sold several things to. After that it was just tracking him down. Planting myself firmly into the community. You know how many people in a person's life are virtually invisible to them? No one even thought there was a chance I was involved. If it wasn't for your chick, O'Hara, we'd be 1 and a half million bucks richer and outta that town 'fore you could ask 'When d'you think he'll get back from lunch?'" He smirked, but it soon faded after hearing Shawn's next input.

"So... you're saying it took you 4 months to figure out how to snatch that ugly blue vase, and then you botched the job? Some gang!" Shawn scoffed, enjoying the pink blotches appearing on his captor's face. "You're about as efficient as Gus is textspeak savvy! I keep telling him 'lolz' does not mean 'laughing out loud zebras' but does he listen? No!"

"Do you ever say anything better than this... this crap?" Howie asked incredulously.

"Not your jug of moonshine? OK, I'll stick to the hard stuff, with big words and... other intelligent things. Where'd you get the grenade to blow Jules' place to smithereens? That can't be easy to come by for a deli-man?"

"I had millions of dollars at my disposal." He answered, that taut muscle in his jaw getting a through workout. "What'd you expect me to spend it on, spam and provolone?"

"You didn't actually use spam, did you?" Shawn countered, sounding genuinely concerned. "'Cause you know that stuff is disgusting, there's more fat and whatever than meat, and the way it plops out of the can in that block, it's just so... ick! How could you stand being a millionaire gangster serving that shit to the Academy's finest, it must have been—"

"Shut—"

"—absolutely revolt—"

"—Up!" Howie fired a shot (complete with silencer) at the concrete floor a few inches from Shawn's feet. The storekeeper was an excellent shot, steering clear of harming him while still sending Shawn into an adrenaline fueled panic. He skittered away from the ricochet bullet, but was surprised when he wasn't the only one to jump. King looked terrified at both the sound and the action from his superior. As Shawn drew calming breaths, he filed this new information for later. Howie was utterly blank, having no other motive in his assault than expecting Shawn to obey. The two stared at each other for an exceptionally long minute, eyes boring holes in the other's until it was a battle of souls.

"Alright." Shawn conceded, with the air of a feral cat slinking away to lick his wounds in preparation for the next fight. "I guess I can put my love of my own voice aside a while in light of my love of breathing." The hint of a sneer flitted across the older man's features.

"Glad we understand each other _psychic_." He spat out. Howie stalked away, still fuming, and slammed the door to a back room, disappearing from sight. There was silence as King and Shawn stared at each other, and Gus listened desperately for signs everyone was OK as he lay face down on the concrete. Shawn pondered how to best take advantage of the alone time with the lesser villain. He probably could have chosen a better tactic if he wasn't so petrified.

"What did the lightbulb say to the switch?" He paused, while King tried to make his glare more menacing. "You turn me on!" No laughter, though Gus' lips probably twitched.

"You're the idiot." King grumbled, slumping back into the backwards chair, trying to look tough. As if the gun didn't take care of that enough.

"Hey man, I get it, I get you." King, once again nearly forgetting to keep his .45 towards Gus, pointed his free hand at Shawn testily.

"No no, I do!" He insisted, somehow intuitively knowing that relating to him would work the best. "My old man, nothing I ever did was good enough for him. He wanted a cop for a son, I become the free-spirited psychic you see before you. Course the handcuffs sort of counter act the effect, if you undid them I could demonstrate—"

"No."

"Worth a shot." Shawn retorted airily. Eying the man— sizing him up was more accurate— he decided to gently guide him to the point of their heart-to-heart. "How long have you known Howie, there Oscar?" King blinked in surprise.

"Since I was ten. My dad went to the can—"

"—Prison or the John?" One pissed off glare confirmed it. "Prison, got it. Go on."

"Howie pretty much raised me from then on. It was... nice." He shifted uncomfortably, making Shawn unconsciously tug at his wrists in turn. He delivered his next words gently.

"And how many people have you seen him kill?" The fidgeting continued, the hand with the pistol beginning to shake more violently.

"You have to understand, we're not like those big gangsta types. No drugs, no gun-trafficking, no hits, nothing like that at all! We just robbed banks— small ones, never hurting anybody, just making off with the money, y'know?" Oscar pleaded. Shawn nodded slowly.

"But that was in the past. Pretty soon, Howie started writing off his own men, keeping the spoils for himself, racking up a higher and higher body count." King's trigger finger convulsed and panic tightened in his gut. When nothing went off, he continued more softly. "You're not like him, you don't enjoy murder. But you know, the F.B.I. thinks you're responsible for all the crap he's pulled. You're a loose end, Oscar." A horrified understanding was beginning to show on his face. "And you've seen how good he is at tying those up." There was barely a minute for King to soak in his impending doom before Howie was reentering the room.

"A car just pulled up, it's gotta be the blonde." He announced authoritatively. Gus groaned as if he was only now waking up. Howie gestured his gun towards his prone figure to Oscar, who covered his broken expression by pulling Gus to his feet and pressing the muzzle to his temple. His eyes, which were lightly coated in unshed tears, begged Shawn to obey. He half-pulled Gus, because he was dragging his feet like a smart hostage, to hide by the side of the door, where the two would be unseen by whoever (as if there was any doubt?) was on the other side.

Howie took out his handcuff key, which Shawn perked up at despite knowing it wouldn't help much, and released him from his uncomfortable position. He instantly sprang to his feet with false joviality. Howie steadied his pistol's aim on his heart.

"Remember Spencer, and I'm sure you've heard this one before, don't do anything stupid. We've got one on you, and one on your friend."

"Course pretty soon it wont matter much _when_ we were killed exactly," Shawn pointed out, managing to keep his rage out of the quip. More yellow teeth peeked at him.

"Details." He gave him a gentle shove, more like you'd give a puppy you're trying to teach to walk. Biting the inside of his cheek, to keep from verbally accosting them or warning his last hope, Shawn fell into position. He would be barely visible to Jules, while everyone else was waiting out of sight.

Much as he usually loved seeing Jules go all 'Kathryn Erbe' as Gus put it, on this occasion... he'd rather have fallen for a 'Mary Lou Bombgardner'.


	14. Stage Shot Sought

**We Were Hoping for More **_**Porky's**_** than **_**Shoot to Kill**_**. Sorry!**

Breathing. Keep breathing. Breathing was supposed to be good.

_You can do this, O'Hara, it's just another day at the job. Nothing to be worried about._

Releasing the hold her claws had on the steering wheel, she opened the door of the stolen car. The smell of fish assaulted her instantly, making breathing much less pleasant. Juliet shut her eyes tightly, before composing herself and closing the door quietly. Looking to the warehouse, she silently wished her partner was there to force her to be strong.

Carlton had finally called back once Juliet was halfway to the 'hideout'. She had refused his command to turn back. As she drew closer Lassiter's irritation had increased.

"If I don't show up they will _kill_ Shawn, they may already have killed Gus!" She'd finally snapped.

_"He'll kill them either way, don't let him take you too!"_

Juliet shivered. _Lassiter will get here in time_, she told herself with a steadiness neither felt. He couldn't be more than half an hour away after all. She just had to get the upper hand on them by that time. She was an exemplary detective, she could manage it. And of course she'd have the master of stalling on her side.

That thought filled her with enough confidence to take a few steps toward the menacing looking processing plant. Feeling nervous tension increase as her distance from the trap slipped away, she swallowed reflexively as she recognized the shadowy figure watching her approach. He waved, his faint silhouette still conveying how subdued his motions were, a weak imitation of usual jovial self. Juliet halted a few yards from the doorway.

"Hey Jules." He sighed, sounding very disappointed and disgruntled. Knowing Shawn he'd been hoping she'd have stayed away. He obviously didn't realize she could never leave well enough alone. Juliet gave him a terse nod.

"You said you had a vision? Where's King?" She asked, her hand sliding to her gun, holstered behind her right hip. Shawn held his right hand to his temple, where his pinky kept flicking. She nodded again in understanding; he was signaling the assailants were to the left of the door.

"Must've cleared out, but come inside, maybe we can find some clues. Preferably of the blue variety." He stated as if reciting it off a teleprompter. The corner of her mouth twisted upward in a grim half-smile. His unenthusiastic response would have to continue to be unsuccessful in deterring her, no matter how much he disapproved of her choice. Pulling her sidearm out, she held it at shoulder height and inched closer.

Shawn watched her move steadily to the entrance. When her eyes met his again, Juliet held his gaze and nodded. He blinked once, she drew nearer once more. He blinked twice, her grip tightened. He closed his eyes. Deep breath in....

Shawn jerked to the side, leaving Jules the clear path to sprint inside. The assailants had only a few seconds to prepare themselves before she was in their sights. Gus instinctively ducked down, leaving King with no shield and Howie no leverage. The two friends wisely stayed on the ground during the inevitable firefight.

"SBPD, drop it!" She called, ever the good cop. Howie's reply was a startled shot whizzing past her ear. Juliet fired twice, one of her rounds leaving a deep cut on his right arm. Crying out in pain and surprise, Howie's gun clattered to the floor. He swore.

"Dammit Oscar, shoot the blonde bitch!"

Juliet instinctively swiveled her piece to aim at King, but held off firing immediately when she noticed his clear hesitation. Either coming to a conclusion or taking advantage of her uncertainty, the man took aim and fired a single decisive shot.

Three screams ripped the air: one of agony, one of terror, and one of burning rage.

~*~

Shawn had imagined more than once what it would be like to see one of the people closest to him get shot.

This had mostly been after his own experience with the reality that not everyone in his current profession escaped unscathed when confronted with a gun. It was disconcerting how little that outcome had occurred to him before 'Garth' (or Ryan or Geoffrey or whoever the hell he'd really been) and that jarring night. Lying in that hospital bed, surrounded by his loved ones and somewhat tolerated ones, Shawn's overactive mind had begun conjuring horrible scenarios, where he said the wrong thing or no one could move fast enough. These dark musings flooded back even as the roar of angry denial burst from his lungs.

Lassie, and it might sound callous, but he'd be the easiest to deal with. Lassie was a trained cop, used to putting his life on the line, and frankly could come off a tad stand offish. Much as Shawn loved him (like that distant uncle who always got drunk at family gatherings everyone seemed to have) that came secure in the knowledge he would never have to spend sleepless nights fretting over his welfare.

Abby tended to distance herself from the work aspect of his life. She'd never put herself in danger like some of his other friends. There was always the chance someone could hurt her, but Shawn had faith if that happened, he and the cops would solve the problem without the need for her to be hurt.

His dad, well he knew he had the training to deal with anything from a pro-wrestler to an escaped tiger. Every time Henry insisted he was happily retired put Shawn a little bit more at ease. The idea his father might die in the line of duty was something that he'd been living with since he was old enough to be really scared. He was used to it. But not happy about it.

Gus... He'd rather lose his right arm. That and the fact it would be totally his fault if such a.... fucked up thing ever did happen... That bit of guilt and fear had taken up residence in his brain a long time ago and would probably never leave as his head seemed to be rent-stabilized.

Jules? It was so outrageous and wrong and totally impossible.

Gus' concerned and horrified shouting told him his best friend hadn't contemplated it much either. Shawn lay in silence, only dimly listening to his partner taking the lead investigator title. He didn't even feel up for the required gesticulation.

"Jules! Juliet, are you ok? Where are you hurt? Jules?" From what they could see the detective was curled into a protective ball, her sidearm amazingly still in hand.

"Yeah," She grunted, and even the strained pitch couldn't temper their relief. "It's just... my foot... hot knife... blood..." Her mumbling was becoming less coherent, and the softer each word became the harder Gus seemed to coax her. Shawn felt his attention drifting, or was it being pushed away?

Howie was glaring at his subordinate, still clasping his bleeding arm. "The foot?" He questioned, voice dangerous and quelling. Looking up at the man who had shot one of the most important people before his eyes, Shawn could read only bleak emptiness. Oscar shrugged, not seeming to care either way. Howie's eyes narrowed, but his next orders were delivered with either trust or underestimation, giving the team a bit of much needed hope. "Tie them back up. Cuff the psychic and his friend." King began to do so, and Shawn could only watch as opportunity after opportunity slipped away. Howie, who was making his way to the back room, turned around halfway with an arrogant triumph in every feature. "You gave the lady cop enough of a handful. She ain't going anywhere on that leg now." He smirked, which bolstered Juliet's kickassness factor. She struggled to sit up, glaring at their captor with surprising strength considering the sweat shinning on her face. Making tiny panting noises and grunts, Jules managed to deliver the stubbornness Shawn had grown to appreciate.

"That — is Detective — O'Hara to — you, Howard Gerund." His face, which had been contorted with pain and fury, let a note of surprise cross it, almost impressed by her knowing his full name. The moment passed, however, and he looked angrier than ever.

"Fancy title doesn't mean much when you're curled up on the floor at my mercy, does it!" At her continued defiant glare, he stomped away to tend to his arm. Once the door clanged shut, Shawn again began to assault King's loyalty toward the greedy pig.

"You can let us go Oscar." His words came out a hissed stream as King clicked the handcuff closed over his right wrist. "You can make sure everyone knows who was responsible for those deaths. You can stop him from hurting anyone else. Just don't," His arm was being pulled backwards as the poor criminal passed the cuffs behind the leg of the standing shelf, "Do this! Just let us go, and we can ensure your safety!" This made King pause, one hand on Gus' unresisting left arm, the other on the police issue restraints. His next words were resigned.

"Either I go with you, betraying the only one who's stuck by me, and waste away alone in prison... Or I follow my last commands—"

"No!"

"—And go out helping my best friend. Which would you choose?" The question caught him off-guard, King honestly seeking his opinion. He could feel Gus stiffen next to him, and it was a rare moment when Shawn couldn't find the right words.

"Just... let us go." He pleaded finally. Oscar shook his head, knowing what the evasion really meant. Clapping the last manacle on Gus' left wrist, King left the to themselves. No words could lift the pall over the friends.

Whatever paddle Shawn thought he spied up ahead shit creak, turned out the tide was carrying it away into the distant crapdom of their future.


	15. Fighting Focus Fever

**We Were Hoping for More **_**Porky's**_** than **_**Shoot to Kill**_**. Sorry!**

"I still can't believe he shot you in the foot." Gus' incredulity cut the quiet. Shawn could smack him. Really. Shamelessly.

"He... couldn't say no... didn't care..." Jules grit out. She was trying to apply pressure to her bullet wound with her jacket. Thankfully there wasn't a lot of blood in the foot apparently. Though it didn't seem like there were any broken bones (remarkable since there were tons of easily shatter-able bones in that region) the entire ankle-down area had swollen to twice it's normal size. That couldn't be healthy.

Amazingly, Juliet wasn't crying. Though he knew that was pretty much par for the course. It would take a real tragedy to break that wall down. But then maybe a bullet to the foot was easier than a bullet to the shoulder.

"Carlton should... be here... in about 25... minutes... or so." She informed them, for all the help it did.

"Good. Great! We can count on _Lassie_ to save us from whatever—" Gus elbowed him in the face, the best move he could maneuver from their strange position joined at the wrists. Shawn made a squawk of protest, bumping into his side in retaliation, starting an extremely awkward flailing war. Jules put up with it for a moment, until their noises grew to a worrying volume.

"Guys!" She whispered harshly to interrupt their bickering. Both men, in tune to her by her new 'victim' status, instantly froze. Jules weakly gestured to the door as best she could. They quieted down in understanding. No need to force the bad guys to come back any sooner.

Shawn studied her hunched figure as several minute passed in wait. Much as he hated to admit defeat, there wasn't much the trio could do at this point: him and Gus were stuck, anything useful out of reach from their positions on the ground, and Jules was exhausted just trying to keep her blood inside where it belonged. They were facing a pretty pitiful cliche. Must keep away from the 'confessions of love in a moment of hopelessness' scenario.

"So how's life?" He asked, nonchalant. She looked up to gape at him and his blatant denial. Gus groaned at his pathetic attempt at normality.

"Kinda not good..." Juliet ventured.

"I'm sorry to hear. Sounds tough."

"Yeah, getting shot can be that way." Alright, Shawn admitted, his plan wasn't perfect. But then again, she hadn't grunted out her reply. That was good. Bolstered by his achievement, he continued.

"Work good, witness protection aside? Lassie being decidedly sour as always?"

"I'm so not playing this game." Uh oh. Were her cheeks flushed?

"Jules state the fifth amendment verbatim for us please." Both Jules and Gus blinked in shock, neither expecting that out of all possible responses. Her face scrunched adorably as she tried to remember the words.

"'No person shall be held to answer for a capital, or otherwise infamous crime, unless...'" That 'uh oh' had been spot on. The redness in her face hadn't dissipated, even with the boring and completely un-blushable subject matter.

"Hey Jules, is it hot in here?" She looked at him blankly. She was silent for a moment, until a lightbulb went off in her addled little mind.

"Yeah actually! For once it's not just a pick-up line with you." Jules giggled. _Giggled!_ Gus was now suitably worried, the pharmaceutical rep. in him kicking in once he realized what Shawn had seen. The two friends looked at each other in agreement: her foot had become infected.

"You wouldn't have any anti-biotics in your pocket, would you?" Shawn whispered hopefully. Gus shook his head sadly. Trying not to be crushed under the weight of dashed dreams, he asked "So what can we do to help?"

"We can't treat her without medication. I think our best bet is to try and keep her coherent. Keep talking." Great. One of the rare times he was afraid of what might come out of his mouth.

"Let me get this straight, buddy: we're trapped with guys who have no reason _not_ to kill us, we're literally inseparable, Jules can't walk and has gone loopier than the cereal obsessed parrot, and our only hope out of this is Lassie's tactful ability to talk down a crazy person with a gun!" He hissed in frustration. Gus just shrugged in response. "What the hell am I supposed to say in a situation like this?!" His friend raised his eyebrows, shooting him a knowing look that would earn a slap on the back of the head in any other circumstance. "No way, I refuse to give into the cinema-esque workings inside your perfectly shaped head."

"You two sound real funny over there," Jules pointed out, no longer bothering to rub her inflamed foot. Instead she lay on her side, one of her bloody hands propping up her chin. Minus the red sticky smears she would have presented an appealing image. It was something she would never do in her right mind and it only highlighted her impaired state. Lost for ideas on what to say (good ideas, that is) he asked the obvious.

"You think we sound funny? How so?" She smiled goofily.

"You're hissing, like snakes." Juliet tried to imitate the sound, but her speech was becoming slurred, and so she ended up primarily spitting. "Oops!" She said, covering her mouth with her free hand and sniggering behind it. Her mirth dissipated however and she paled. "I don't feel so good guys." Looking to them helplessly, which they reflected back to her, Jules wondered aloud, "What's wrong with me? I... sound like an idiot."

"No... trust me you're far too blonde to ever sound like an idiot." Gus shot him a sideways glare.

"Gus," Her stern call brought the man out of his reproach. "What's wrong with me?" She insisted. Damn. His best friend may have all the power of the vault of secrets and a magical milkball-like head... but telling a consoling lie without freaking out was not his strong suit. Sure enough Shawn could see the beads of sweat breaking out on his temples and the quivering of his upper lip.

"Uh..." Gus drew the word out, looking to his friend for guidance. Juliet, even with the beginnings of a fever, could correctly interpret his suspicious behavior. She visibly steeled herself.

"How bad?" He folded quickly.

"Well, you're sitting on the unwashed floor of a disused fish processing plant with two open wounds in your foot through which one of the many rampant infectious microbes in this place must've gotten in. Due to the short time it took for you to exhibit symptoms it's obviously aggressive. I'd say if we don't get you to a hospital within a few hours there's a chance of lasting damage, or worse." There was an incredibly overwhelming silence following the grim diagnosis. Shawn as always broke the mood.

"Dude." His tone was withering and Gus turned to him defensively. "You sounded exactly like that soap opera." Pointing his free hand to give his friend the cue to help brainstorm. "That really old one."

"Shawn—"

"You know, from like the 50's."

"Guiding Light?" He added, finally being swept up in the game.

"No, the other one, with all the crazy romance?"

"All my Children?"

"No! The one that got gay people like two years ago!"

"As the World Turns!"

"Yes!" Shawn hissed in triumph, and the two friends shared the first ever awkward handcuffed fist bump. They returned their focus to Juliet, overcome by their pride, only to stop in their tracks as they noticed her barely contained laughter.

"You two watch daytime soaps?" She asked. The partners glanced at each other in horror, realizing they'd been outed.

Shawn looked back and said "No" with as much swagger as he could muster for someone who knew so much about crappy soap operas. She snickered again, and he decided that being mocked for his boredom induced dorkishness was far better than having this greek goddess overcome by the enormity of her terrible situation.

Before Juliet could express her doubt, the sounds of an escalating argument became audible from the back room. She watched the door anxiously while Gus tried to crane his neck around to monitor it as well. Shawn did not, not needing to acknowledge his lack of x-ray vision. He already had a too accurate idea of what was happening. Jules refocused her moist but beautifully blue eyes on him, expression gently pleading.

"If there's anything you need to say..." Shawn's mouth fell open helplessly at the precise moment two gunshots split the air.


End file.
